Footsteps of a ghost
by PsychologyGeek81
Summary: Barty Crouch Jr trains to become a Death Eater, following in the footsteps of his missing friend and lover Regulus Black. As he's mentored by the Lestrange's, including Regulus's cousin Bellatrix, he's unable to stop thinking about him. Will he discover the truth of what happened to his Regulus?
1. Chapter 1

Barty Crouch jr closed the wooden door behind him, shivering as the air around him grew rapidly cooler. He followed the small flicker of wand light down the concrete steps into the Lestrange's cellar, gripping the thin metal hand rail for support as the darkness swarmed around him. Once they reached the bottom, Barty let out a breath, taking in the smell of dust and old stone that filled the space at the bottom of the stairs.

The light, which was coming from Bellatrix's wand, went out unexpectedly, before transforming into a red jet which lit a row of candles lining the corridor beside them, and one on the wall opposite them.

"Kitchen, laundry and elves quarters," began Bellatrix, pointing to two adjacent doors in their immediate space. This was the first time Barty had seen the lowest floor of their manor, and Bellatrix and Rodolphus were currently giving him a tour.

"There's nothing through there," Bellatrix explained, pointing through an archway in front of them. "We just store things there sometimes."

"So where are we going?" asked Barty, curiosity heightening the pitch of his voice. He knew they hadn't brought him down here purely for a tour, he knew that he was going to be doing part of his training. The Lestrange's had been training Barty as a Death Eater for three weeks now, and he had shown good progress. Since he first met them, Barty had been at their house almost every day, learning and observing and practicing. He liked being at theirs far more than he liked being at home.

"We're going down the corridor," explained Rodolphus, clapping Barty on the shoulder. Barty swayed under the unexpected force.

"Okay," he said eagerly, wondering what they were about to show him, before the three of them filed into the narrow hallway to their right.

As he followed them down the corridor, Barty watched his footsteps in the dim candlelight, thinking about all the other new recruits that may have walked down here with them. His mind fixed on Bellatrix's cousin Regulus, who he knew they'd trained, and who had also been missing for almost a year. Barty felt an ache in his chest as he pictured Reg's face, pictured him walking the exact same route he was now, a nervous and inexperienced trainee.

After a left turn, the space grew wider, and eventually the pair leading Barty stopped in front of a door made from metal bars. Rodolphus unlocked the door, allowing Bellatrix and Barty to step through before he did. As soon as they were inside, Bellatrix lit the room, and Barty's eyes fed on the sight in front of him.

The room was long, and mostly bare, apart from a chair rooted to the floor in the centre. There were metal hoops and brackets lining the walls, and in some places lengths of metal chains extending from the walls and trailing down into a pile on the floor. Barty blinked, continuing to take in the details of the room despite the dim light. He looked down at the concrete floor, which in places were splattered with burgundy stains.

"This is the interrogation room," announced Bellatrix, with a level of excitement and pride that made Barty's stomach swoop as he remembered all of the tales of her notorious sadism. In the weeks he'd trained with them, they'd mostly focussed on duelling, and he'd learned that she was a very powerful witch, but he was yet to witness her love of torture.

"So what do you want me to do?" asked Barty, eyes flitting around the room for any signs of what today's session would hold. They hadn't discussed training for interrogation, and he'd been assured that they wouldn't move onto curses until he'd completed his duelling practice. "Do you want me to get in the chair?" They both laughed.

"No dear," replied Bellatrix, amusement heavy in her voice.

"And don't think about sitting down on it for a rest either," added Rodolphus, placing one hand his hip and the other in his robe pocket. "Or else you won't be getting up. If you need a rest sit down on one of the stools." Barty looked around.

"He can't see them idiot, they're at the other end of the room," said Bellatrix, shaking her head slightly. Barty felt a smile tugging at his lips, and turned slightly so that he was no longer looking at her. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about Bellatrix that fascinated him so much, her inexplicable charm, her beauty, her power, maybe all three. But whichever it was, Barty knew that he needed to push the feeling away and focus.

The dull scraping of two wooden stools moving across the room pulled him back to reality. The first one stopped right at his feet, the other grinding to a halt in front of Rodolphus, who had summoned them over. Barty gave a smile and a nod by way of a thank you, before sitting down.

"Now Barty," Bellatrix began, moving so she was stood in front of him. "We've taught you all that we can about duelling while you can see your opponents." She clasped her hands in front of her, starting to pace slightly as she spoke. "But there will be many times you'll need to duel in the dead of night, and often you can't see who you're fighting."

"So today, we're going to restrict your vision and then attack you." Barty felt his eyes widen as he swallowed. She made it sound so intense. "You will need to defend yourself without being able to see us. We're going to start down here so we can assess your skills and areas for improvement, and then tonight we'll take you out to the woods at the back of the estate. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good," Barty answered, watching the devious smile that spread across Bellatrix's face.

Barty returned to glancing around the room as Bellatrix made her way over to Rodolphus and began whispering to him. Their conversation lasted two minutes, before Bellatrix withdrew her wand and waved it in a half circle. Barty was unsure exactly what she'd done, until a strip of emerald green silk slithered into the room. He watched the silk slide along the floor, taking the exact shape of a snake, right down to the scales and eyes, before moving up her body and falling limp in her hands.

"They're charmed come when called," she explained, obviously noticing the look of intrigue spread across Barty's face. Barty closed his mouth, realising just then that he'd left it open. His mind began to race, wondering what she was going to do to him with the piece of silk, why it was charmed to come to her side like an obedient pet.

"Why?" asked Barty, his heart rate picking up for a reason he couldn't pinpoint. He watched her thread the silk through her fingers, twisting it around each one.

"Because you never know when you might need them," she answered, her voice lowering slightly in a way that made Barty's face flush. He felt thankful for the dim light.

"I'm going to use this to blindfold you," explained Bellatrix as she walked over to Barty, the words making heat flood through his body. Barty fought the urge to squirm. "Blocking your vision for when you need to defend yourself." She stopped in front of him, stretching out the piece of silk and moving towards his face. "This will make your other senses work harder in order to protect you, a very necessary skill."

The silk was warm as it covered Barty's eyes, and smelled faintly of candles. He fought the urge to shudder as he felt Bellatrix move around him, standing just inches from his back. He'd been close to her enough times in training, but something about this moment made him feel much more vulnerable. It felt uncomfortably intimate.

He tried to picture her doing this with all of the other new recruits that came down here and received her specialist training. He imagined Regulus sat in the same chair that he was now, his cousin wrapping silk over his eyes. Barty then found himself remembering Regulus's clammy hands covering his own eyes, the gentle roar of the fires in the Slytherin common room filling his ears as Regulus demanded he guess who was behind him, and Barty laughing at the sheer silliness of it all, because there was only one person it could possibly be.

A pull at the back of his head so sharp it made his eyes water sent him back to reality, and he winced as the memory faded back into the far corners of his mind. He could feel Bellatrix's long nails scraping his scalp as she tied the silk in a knot at the back of his head. He tried to avoid making his discomfort known through sound, not wanting to appear weak to her.

"You're pulling his hair Bells," said Rodolphus from his stool. Bellatrix's assault on his hair immediately ended, and she freed the strands that had become entangled with the knot she was attempting to tie. Barty mentally thanked him.

"Sorry Barty, force of habit," responded Bellatrix as she finished the knot, tugging to test its strength. Barty felt her body moving behind him, as if she were laughing, and then heard Rodolphus snicker quietly, followed by a 'tsk' from Bellatrix. Barty felt immediately awkward.

One of the reasons Barty had enjoyed being trained by the Lestrange's is that there were very few times they had made him feel uncomfortable or out of place, which surprised him, given all that he'd heard about them from other Death Eaters. When Rabastan wasn't there, Barty never felt like a spare part, in fact it often didn't feel like he was being trained by a married couple at all, just two people who knew each other very well. But there were times Barty saw looks he wished he hadn't, or they were laughing over a shared joke that he wasn't privy to, like now, that reminded him exactly who he was working with.

"Are you ready to begin?" said Bellatrix, commanding and authoritative, all traces of silent laugher gone. Barty nodded, getting off the stool. He heard it move to the wall so it wasn't in his way, and tensed his body in preparation for their attack.

After two hours of training in the cellar, afternoon began to merge into evening, and it was time for dinner. Sat at the longest dinner table Barty had ever seen, he felt completely at ease. Rabastan had even returned home from whatever errands he was running, so the atmosphere was even better with all three of them there.

Bellatrix had made good on her statement when they first met that the three of them would take care of Barty. They felt more like his family than his own parents did, taking him in as if he was one of them. He didn't feel the need to beg for their approval like he did with his father, he felt accepted. The fact that he was a minister's son seemed to make them want to see him succeed even more, and he and Bellatrix had often discussed his friendship with Regulus.

He wondered if she knew just how close he and Regulus had been, that their relationship had transcended the boundaries of friendship. He knew that she'd paid Regulus extra attention since his older brother Sirius had been disowned by the family, building him up to meet their family's expectations of who the Black heir should be. His mind pulled even more memories of Regulus forward as he sat drinking his wine.

" _Crap," muttered Barty as he tripped over the bottom of his robes, falling uncomfortably against the stairs up to the Slytherin boys' dormitories. He looked around quickly to check if anybody saw. The last thing he needed was to be the kid that made an idiot of himself by falling up the stairs on his first day of school. He winced at the pain that rippled over his knee and down his leg, clutching it as footsteps from someone descending the stairs caught his attention. He shot up in a panic, straightening out his robes as a small boy with a mess of curly black hair emerged in front of him._

" _Hi," said the boy, who looked at him with kind eyes._

" _Hi," Barty stammered in response, trying to act like he hadn't just fallen over._

" _First day, right?" said the boy. Barty nodded._

" _I'm Regulus Black," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "I'm a second year."_

" _Bartemius Crouch," said Barty as he shook Regulus's hand. "But please call me Barty."_

" _Okay Barty, nice to meet you," said Regulus, a smile forming on his pale face. "I can help you out if you need anything."_

" _Thanks," beamed Barty. He'd made a friend already, maybe school wasn't going to be as bad as he anticipated after all. "I'd like that."_


	2. Chapter 2

The first week of October had brought miserable weather, grey skies and many showers, one of which Barty was currently stood outside in, knocking on the front doors of Lestrange manor. His parents believed that he had a job working in Hogsmede, which was why he was out of the house all day and often back home long after his father returned from work.

His parents had been accepting, not asking too many questions, which Barty was thankful for. His father had been invasive as usual, but had generally eased up on Barty ever since he became of age and could defend himself in the house. Also, his father was so concerned with his own work that Barty's lies didn't fall under too much scrutiny.

Eventually the house elf answered the door. It was an incredibly timid creature, and Barty didn't even know its name. Barty said hello and walked inside, until eventually Rodolphus came and met him in the foyer.

"Morning," he said as he strode over to Barty, who was sat on the lounger beside the door. "We weren't expecting you today." Barty sensed displeasure in his tone.

"You said I could drop by whenever I wanted," stated Barty, hoping the reminder would appease him.

"We did yeah," replied Rodolphus, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, if we'd known you were coming we would've made ourselves look a bit more presentable." Barty blinked at him, wondering where the supposed lack of presentation was.

"We?" he replied, switching his focus to who else was in, rather than any slights in physical presentation.

"Me and Bells, she's in the cupboard," answered Rodolphus. Barty started at him.

"We're brewing a potion, I haven't locked her in there," he explained, noting the puzzled expression on Barty's face. Rodolphus chuckled to himself. "You only survive that once."

Barty felt his eyes widen as uneasiness flooded his body from what was clearly meant to be a humorous statement. There was a part of him that often felt uncomfortable around Rodolphus, usually worried that he'd notice him looking at Bellatrix for too long. He was also unnervingly quiet, which made Barty feel even more self conscious.

"Come," said Rodolphus, motioning for Barty to follow him down the east wing corridor, and it was as Barty fell in step beside him that he noticed a deep red slit in his lower lip.

"To be honest Barty," began Rodolphus as they walked down the corridor side by side. "We've not even been awake an hour." Barty narrowed his eyes as he thought of the time. He estimated that it was almost eleven thirty. "So you're welcome to join us for breakfast after we've done this."

"Where's Rabastan?"

"He went out last night," Rodolphus explained, turning the corner leading to the supplies cupboard. "So Merlin knows what time he's going to crawl in." They stopped in front of a dark wooden door, which sat just ajar on its hinges.

"We have a visitor," called Rodolphus as he opened the door, and Barty stepped towards the entrance, peering inside the small room and finding Bellatrix with two glass jars in her hands.

"Barty, what a surprise," she said, her voice high in a way that he could tell the surprise was not a pleasant one. She forced a smile onto her face, putting the two jars down on a bench resting against the right wall of the cupboard.

When Rodolphus had commented on their lack of presentability, Barty was half expecting Bellatrix to still be in her nightgown or something, not fully dressed. She didn't even seem concerned that she wasn't wearing make up, unlike Barty's mother, who refused to let anybody that wasn't him or his father see her without her face fully painted. Her hair was wrestled into a large knot on top of her head, which clearly didn't bother her either, otherwise she would have taken it down immediately, the way that the girls did at school when one of the others told her that her ears looked bigger when she wore her hair up. He could barely see a single flaw on either of them.

"I hope its okay that I dropped by," said Barty, knowing that it obviously wasn't, but hoping to relieve the tension.

"It's not a problem," replied Bellatrix, brushing her hands on her robes. "You can help us make this potion. Consider it an additional lesson."

"Sure," Barty responded eagerly, stepping inside the cupboard and standing at Bellatrix's side. He watched her pull one more jar from a shelf at the back of the cupboard and place it down on the bench, fixated on the way she bit her lip in concentration. The room was dimly lit, which he hoped made his staring less obvious. Although It lead him to notice a string of marks along her neck and collarbone, which immediately made him turn and stare intently at the bench.

"That's everything," muttered Bellatrix, mostly to herself as she leaned over a book. "Barty, could you get one of the cauldrons hanging up over there." She pointed to the back wall, to which he dutifully went and grabbed a cauldron from. As he was walking back to the bench he watched Bellatrix rest her wand against her throat for a split second, before placing it on the bench.

"What are you making?" asked Barty, leaning against the far end of the bench.

"Muscle relaxant," answered Bellatrix, her voice immediately turning authoritative. "You'll need to use this potion frequently. The body floods with adrenaline when duelling or fighting off aurors, which leaves you aching later." She bent down, picking up a pestle and mortar from a lower shelf on the bench. "It doesn't take long to brew either, which makes it a very good potion to know."

Barty watched as Bellatrix and Rodolphus started mixing the potion together, moving so swiftly that he felt like he was watching a well rehearsed dance routine. He'd never excelled at potions, that had been Regulus's area. They found that in the areas one of them lacked, the other flourished. That made it feel even more like they were destined to find each other, to support each other.

The potion was almost ready by the time Barty had zoned back into concentration, a cold heaviness settled in his chest. He knew there was a high chance that Regulus was dead, and that thinking about him would only make the whole situation more painful, but he couldn't stop the memories from coming. Maybe it was because he was spending so much time with Reg's cousin, or that he was now following in his footsteps, the ones he'd fought so carefully to keep hidden. Either way, his heart yearned to submerge him in these memories, and now that he was joining the Dark Lord too, he could almost imagine Regulus was there.

"See, it's very simple, Barty," said Bellatrix, causing Barty to blink rapidly and shoot upwards, making it obvious that he hadn't been playing attention. He watched Bellatrix's jaw clench. "Were you even watching?"

"Kind of," he stammered, the glare she was shooting him so strong that he felt rooted in place, like he couldn't move. "I got a bit distracted in the middle." He watched her eyes widen. "It was Reg's best subject you see. Made me think of him."

Bellatrix closed her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line as the anger lifted. She sighed, very quietly, before looking back at Barty.

"He told me about you two, you know," she said, and Barty felt shock, relief and anxiety flood his body all at once. He managed a weak nod. She smiled. "Maybe when the two of you are alone, you and Rabastan should have a chat."

"If he's not too hungover, that is," added Rodolphus from behind Bellatrix, which made Barty laugh. As they poured the potion out into two cups and downed them, Barty was still laughing, silently to himself, relief rippling through his system. Not only did they accept him for the parts of himself that he kept hidden from everyone, something which he knew his father would never do, but they have someone he can talk to about it.

They left the supply cupboard and headed out for breakfast, which was closer time-wise to lunch than actual breakfast, and found Rabastan sat slumped over a plate, picking at whatever was on it. Afterwards, Bellatrix and Rodolphus made excuses so Barty could talk with Rabastan, disappearing to another part of the manor. Rabastan moved them to the small couch by the window at the back of the dining room.

They talked, Barty told him about he and Regulus's relationship, and he told Barty about how he'd thrown himself into quidditch to cover up his sexuality at school, experiments with other students who swore him to secrecy. Rabastan told him about his father finding out and sending him abroad on recruitment missions for the Dark Lord, about the Romanian he'd had a relationship with during that time.

"So how did your brother take it?" asked Barty, noting that he seemed pretty okay with it now.

"He was fourteen when I told him," told Rabastan, picking at some loose skin at the side of his nail. "He was weird about it at first, but kept quiet. He probably just got used to it. I mean, we didn't see each other for five years after I started working abroad, our parents didn't even tell him where I'd gone."

"What?"

"He was worried dad had found out and had me killed or something," said Rabastan, shaking his head, but smiling. "I only came back to tell everyone our father had died on mission. He'd kept Rod in the dark about everything, hoping for him to sort his life out first before he joined."

"Wow, looks like I'm not the only one with a dysfunctional family," joked Barty. Rabastan laughed.

"If you're used to dysfunctional then you've come to the right place," he replied, which made something twist uncomfortably in Barty's chest. He'd found being here the polar opposite of being at home. The Lestrange's were nothing like his parents, they didn't make him feel like a burden, didn't belittle him and discount his every achievement just because it wasn't what they wanted. Barty tried to push the anger and defensiveness away.

"Going back to what you said earlier Barty, I honestly don't care what my brother thinks of who I am," said Rabastan, taking a sip from a glass of water that had been stationed on the small table in front of them. "I'm pretty sure he accepts me but even if he didn't, he owes me big time."

"What do you mean?" Barty screwed up his face.

"The amount of shit I have seen around here." Rabastan closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They've been on best behaviour with you so far, wait until you see what they're really like."

After a while of more talking, Rodolphus came in with a drink for Rabastan, claiming it as a hangover cure. He took it and downed it in one. Barty couldn't help but think about what Rabastan had said about him and Bellatrix, how he hadn't seen what they were really like yet. His eyes became drawn to the cut on Rodolphus's lip, and he remembered the marks along Bellatrix's neck, that had somehow disappeared by the time they'd left the supply cupboard. A wave of uneasiness rolled through him.

"Can we have a word," said Rodolphus to Barty, which caused his uneasiness to double. He agreed and rose from the chair.

"About this morning," he began, and Barty felt a jolt of relief shoot through his body. "Next time, let us know you're coming. Bellatrix doesn't like it when people show up unannounced."

"I had a feeling," replied Barty, drumming his fingers against his leg from inside his robe pocket.

"You're lucky she was in a good mood," continued Rodolphus, pulling at the collar of his robes. "She's not much of a morning person either." They both laughed.

"I'll try to remember that," Barty said, feeling much more relaxed.

"Just don't tell her I told you that."

Much later, after Barty went home, he shut himself in his bedroom and let the energy from the day wind down. It had been a long day, and he was tired, talking to Rabastan had both drained and replenished his energy. That was the second conversation he'd ever had about his sexuality, the only other being with Regulus.

" _So you like boys and girls?" asked Regulus, being careful to keep his voice low in their small corner of the Slytherin common room._

" _Yes," answered Barty, matter of factly, like it wasn't the first time he'd said the words out loud. He was fifteen and Regulus was approaching sixteen, and his OWL's, which had been taking up most of his free time._

" _When did you know?"_

" _After about three years of watching quidditch," Barty answered jokingly. Regulus chuckled quietly, his eyes flickering over Barty's shoulder. "What about you?"_

" _What about me?"_

" _Well you've never really talked about your preferences," said Barty. Regulus had always been a private person. He never disclosed much about his home life, not in the way that Barty did. Barty was just happy to have somebody to vent to about his awful father._

" _Well I guess I'm like you," Regulus answered, chewing on his bottom lip. Maybe he wasn't used to saying the words either. "Although sometimes I'm not sure what I am."_

" _That's okay though," said Barty, his voice soft, a supportive arm reaching out._

" _It's not in my family," Regulus answered. "There are so many expectations on me now that Sirius has been disowned." His face fell at the mention of his older brother. "They all expect so much of me."_

" _My family would never be okay with it either," Barty added, licking the corner of his mouth. "If I wanted to be with another boy that is, if it were a girl I think I'd be safe." Regulus smiled sadly._

" _I wish things were different," he said, with such melancholy that it made Barty's chest hurt._


	3. Chapter 3

Excitement and anxiety simmered through Barty's insides as he drummed his fingers against his legs, his nervousness concealed by the discretion of his robes. He had progressed onto the next stage of his training, and was about to learn the most fundamental aspects of being a Death Eater from someone who was supposedly the best. The highest quality of training was being given to him, and he was eager to impress.

Barty and his three trainers were stood in their foyer, about to head down to the cellar and begin today's lesson. He listened quietly as they discussed something unrelated to his training, trying to quell his nerves, when Rabastan broke up the conversation by letting out a loud hiss.

Rabastan rolled up his sleeve, exposing his dark mark, which was currently moving in place. Barty watched with fascination, knowing that one would soon be adorning his arm. Rodolphus exposed his too, which was also rippling across his inner forearm. The only person whose mark didn't appear to be doing something was Bellatrix, who had glanced down at her arm briefly, before pursing her lips.

"Duty calls," said Rabastan, pulling down his sleeve before glancing over at Barty. "Sorry kiddo."

"Don't worry," added Rodolphus, walking closer to where Barty was standing. "You've got a great teacher." He glanced at Bellatrix, whose expression had visibly soured. She made brief eye contact, but didn't seem all too appreciative of the compliment. A cracking sound signalled the two men's disappearance, and Barty was left alone with Bellatrix.

"Come," she instructed, her voice stern and loud as she pointed to the cellar door tucked underneath the stairs. Barty nodded, silently following her through the door and down the stairs.

They walked past the first room Barty had been taken to in the cellar, down another corridor until they ended up at another iron barred door, leading to a room parallel to the one with the chair. This one had no chair rooted to the floor, and instead had three wooden benches spaced out evenly. There were more comfortable seating options in this room, and Barty took a seat in one of the wooden throne chairs that lined the wall on his left.

Bellatrix walked over to the three benches, two of which had items draped with cloth sat on them. She pulled the cloth off of one of the items, revealing a glass jar with a rather large spider inside.

"I will demonstrate for you," she began, walking slowly around the bench like a beast cornering its prey. "The three spells that you will utilise the most as a Death Eater. You will need to know how to cast them powerfully, to be able to use them indiscriminately, and know how to evade capture for using them, as they are all illegal." She opened the jar, watching as the spider crawled up the side and out onto the bench. "Let's start with the Imperius curse."

Barty watched with rapt attention as she demonstrated the three unforgivable curses for him, noticing how she took longer than necessary torturing the spider, and the way her lips turned up into a twisted smile as she did. After her spider was dead, she walked over to the other bench, pulling the cloth from the top of an identical jar to hers. "Now it's your turn."

Bellatrix was curt and impatient as Barty learned how to perform the Imperius and Cruciatus curse, snapping and ordering him to work harder, claiming his efforts as weak. Barty hadn't expected the curses to be as difficult as they were, and he worked desperately hard to impress Bellatrix, because he wanted to be praised for something. His whole life, his father had made a mockery of his every achievement, told him he was a constant disappointment. He grasped it eventually, with a lot of effort and tough words from his instructor, finally ending the spider in a flash of green light.

"Not bad," noted Bellatrix, her tone stony. "Most recruits struggle at first, with the nature of it all."

She sounded reflective, and Barty wondered if she was thinking about Regulus. Barty couldn't imagine Regulus excelling at inflicting such cruelty, as he was always the softer of the two. Barty remembered the stories he'd tell with a wince about the house elf heads on display in his family home, how he preferred to free bugs rather than crush them. Barty sometimes pitied Regulus for his heart at first, as it made him so vulnerable, but in the end he grew to love it.

After the lesson, Bellatrix invited Barty to stay for a while, stating how she grew bored when she was the only one not out on a mission. She poured them both a glass of wine, and they sat down in the lounge directly below her and Rodolphus's bedroom. It was a homely room, with forest green walls and tan leather couches gathered around a roaring fireplace, and doors leading out to the front of the estate at the far end.

The idea of spending time alone with Bellatrix in a way that wasn't related to his training initially made Barty's stomach feel uneasy, but he relaxed as the conversation flowed. He noticed how many physical features she shared with Regulus, signatures of their elite heritage. However, where Regulus had radiated a soft, comforting energy, Bellatrix was quite the opposite. Her charisma was laced with power, mysticism and confidence. It was impossible not to be drawn to her, but in a way that felt very intimidating.

They talked for a few hours, mostly about Barty and his life. There was a long conversation about Regulus, and he detected a sliver of concern in her voice as they speculated where he might be. Bellatrix told Barty that she'd worried about Regulus while she was training him, but he came through eventually, making their family proud. That's when they ended up on the topic of her family, and their shared dislike of their fathers.

"He has to be in control of everything," she said, sipping her wine and grimacing as she swallowed. Barty wasn't sure whether it was at the taste, or the thought of her father. "He tried to control all of our lives growing up, and I was far too headstrong for him. Not what a young lady should be." Barty laughed as she mimicked her father's voice. "Seeing my mother with him was what made me hate the idea of marriage so much. I never wanted anyone to have that kind of control over me, ever. Swore I would never allow it."

"But you did marry," Barty interjected. "So how did you avoid that?"

"Yes," replied Bellatrix. "Only because I had to." She put her glass on the coffee table. "And to answer your question, I found someone who understood." She paused. "Or at least I thought I did." Barty sensed a degree of tension, but was unsure how to change the subject.

"Had you known Rod long before you married?" he asked, feeling a small sliver of regret settling in his chest as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Bellatrix gave a hum of agreement in response.

"He was the only one of my school friends who didn't bore me to death," she explained, causing Barty to laugh. He imagined she'd probably been the centre of her social circle at school, everyone wanting to get to know her. "I'd be damned before I let my parents sell me off to a stranger."

"I didn't have many friends at school," said Barty, taking a drink as the memories of his school years warmed his chest. "It was mostly just me and Reg, but Hogwarts felt more like home than home."

"I liked being away from my parents too," admitted Bellatrix, tucking a thick strand of curls behind her ear. "Away from all of their rules and expectations."

Barty was familiar with the heaps of expectations that being a member of the Black family placed on a person. Regulus used to talk about them all of the time, how the expectations were doubled for him since his brother was the family disappointment. He talked about how he was expected to marry and have children, even though he wasn't sure if he wanted any of that. He then found himself thinking of Bellatrix, wondering why she never had children, considering how strongly continuing the bloodline was valued amongst pureblood families, and how much she valued blood purity.

Before Barty knew what was happening, Bellatrix rose off the couch so quickly it was as if her robe had caught fire. He turned to look at her, and met eyes so wide with anger that he felt like his airways were being constricted.

"Conversation time is over," she stated, her voice ice cold. "Floo yourself home." Barty blinked in confusion, his mouth falling open as words failed him.

"Did you nor hear me," she almost shrieked, pointing towards the fireplace. "Leave, now." Barty did what he was told, scrambling towards the fireplace under her terrifying stare. He was almost convinced she was going to hurl her empty wine glass at him as she screamed at him to get out.

Once he was home, and his heart rate had returned to its usual steadiness, Barty tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. He hadn't asked her any of the questions that were floating around in his mind, nor would he have, so why had she reacted that way. Another feeling he couldn't shake, was an almost fearful discomfort. The few other Death Eater's he'd spoken to before he began his training had remarked on Bellatrix's infamous temper, but he'd never expected to have it directed at him.

The next afternoon, after sending notification, Barty went back to Lestrange manor to apologise. He wasn't entirely sure what he was apologising for, but he knew that something had happened last night. He felt his hands twitching nervously as he waited for the front doors to open, remembering the fear that flooded his body as he left last night, the automatic expectation of pain.

It was Rodolphus that answered, and Barty stepped out of the drizzle quietly, shucking off his overcoat and holding it in front of him, using it to cover his unsteady hands.

"Is Bellatrix in?" asked Barty meekly as he surveyed the foyer, listening for any signs of other people.

"No, she's at her sisters," answered Rodolphus. "What did you want her for?"

"I need to apologise to her." Rodolphus raised his eyebrows.

"We were talking last night and she threw me out really suddenly," explained Barty, his nerves intensifying. Rodolphus nodded once, his expression blank. Barty felt his chest tighten slightly.

"What were you talking about?"

"Our families mostly," answered Barty. "She was telling me about her controlling father and all the expectations he placed on her growing up." Barty's voice tightened as he detailed their conversation, his relating to her story obvious. "And I wanted to ask her more, but I didn't, and then she threw me out."

"She's a brilliant legilimens, and a very private person," responded Rodolphus, folding his arms over his chest. "She probably read your thoughts." Barty swallowed. He hadn't even noticed anybody in his thoughts. Uneasiness crept over him as he thought about her being able to invade his mind without him even feeling it. "Don't take it too personally, she's always in a bad mood when we get a mission and she doesn't. And honestly, I'm surprised you got that much out of her. That bodes well for you."

"Okay," said Barty, still uncomfortable.

"Leave dealing with her to me," said Rodolphus. "And just act like it never happened. Bringing it up only makes her worse, take it from someone who knows." Barty nodded. He was starting to realize that Bellatrix was more difficult than he'd initially thought.

" _Hey Reg," said a twelve year old Barty, just finishing the last line of his homework._

" _Yes," Regulus replied, not even looking up from the book he was reading._

" _Does your dad ever hit you?"_

" _Whatever made you ask that?" said Regulus, closing the book immediately, his eyes taking a brief sweep of the room. He was clearly checking to see if anyone else in the common room could hear them._

" _I just wanted to know," Barty justified feebly. It had been that stupid Gryffindor boy's fault, going on in class about how close he and his family were, it had set Barty on edge all day. He'd been friends with Regulus for long enough now that he was ready for him to know, trusting the second year more than he had anyone in his life._

" _Not really," answered Regulus, his eyes wide and sorrowful as they met Barty's. "My mother does sometimes, although Sirius gets the worst of it."_

" _My father hits me," confessed Barty, his voice surprisingly emotionless considering that he'd never told anybody before. He expected he'd feel something, but he didn't. "Uses magic on me too sometimes."_

" _Have you told anyone this?" asked Regulus, soft and hushed. He leaned closer towards Barty, lowering his voice even more._

" _Just you."_

" _Do you want to tell someone? Like a member of staff," Regulus continued._

" _Not really," Barty replied. "I don't want anyone knowing, except you."_

" _it's okay," Regulus reassured him. "I'll keep your secret."_

 **Author's note: Shameless self promotion time! For a little more understanding of the reaction Barty's thoughts got, please read my other work Roses and Thorns**


	4. Chapter 4

Barty was becoming very familiar with the Lestrange's cellar. He couldn't remember how many times he'd been down here for his training, which he knew was almost complete. He'd asked how long it usually took, all too eager to compare himself to the other recruits. They'd told him that many different factors contributed to the time taken to complete training, the individual's skills, the trainers skills, time spent with them. Barty was coming along well, he should have completed the basics within six weeks.

Bellatrix had been eager to brag about her time, having completed basic training in less than a month. Rodolphus reminded her that they'd finished at the same time, his tone bored as he leaned against the wall. A few passive aggressive mumblings were exchanged in both directions, but everyone swiftly moved on to Barty's lesson.

Barty had covered the bare essentials; duelling, unforgivable curses, and understanding dark magic. The assessment for the last one had made him feel like he was back at Hogwarts. It was almost time for the ultimate test of commitment. Barty was disappointed that the Dark Lord himself was unable to attend the test, as he had done with many others, including all three of the Lestrange's, but he was too preoccupied with trying to locate a prophecy, so his mentors would be accompanying him.

Today's lesson had been arranged in preparation of that test, in order to give him an extra advantage once he'd taken the mark. They were back in the room under the east wing extension, the same set up as Barty's second lesson on the unforgivable curses in place.

After spiders, Bellatrix had moved him onto small mammals, claiming that many found it easier to disconnect themselves from creatures like spiders and insects. If that instinct was there, she had to force it out of him. He needed to be able to cast unforgivable curses without hesitation. The cages on the three benches each contained a rat, and today Barty was experimenting with different torture techniques.

The further Barty progressed through training, the harder he found it to picture Regulus completing it. He could certainly imagine it for himself, as he was cold and cynical, with no love for a world that made him feel like a burden while those around him with less innate magical ability flourished in loving homes. He'd always thought Regulus was too good for him, lying awake some nights wondering if their connection was just in his head, or merely a dream.

He knew that Regulus had been under immense pressure from his family to make the them proud and be what his brother wasn't, so much that he almost buckled under it, and the more time that Barty spent with Regulus's older cousin he realized how forceful and persuasive she could be. Barty remembered how jumpy Regulus became in his seventh year at Hogwarts, how after that summer he was never the same again.

" _Hey," said Barty softly as he walked into Regulus's dorm room, where he stood beside his bed with his back to the door. He screamed, visibly startling as he turned around, his hand pressed against his chest._

" _You scared me," explained Regulus, still breathing heavily. Barty noticed something off in his voice, but pushed the thought aside._

" _Sorry," apologised Barty, giving Regulus a weak smile as he moved further into the room, pulling his hands from his robe pockets. "I just wanted to see you."_

" _It's okay," replied Regulus, his voice meek and his eyes cast down at the floor. Barty looked around to check that they were completely alone before moving to stand beside him at the side of the bed._

" _I missed you," said Barty quietly. Regulus had been incredibly distant over the summer, and Barty had been worried that it was due to the fact that their friendship had become more before they left for the summer, and that he was having regrets. As they both lived in London, it was easy for Barty and Regulus to see each other in the holidays, but this time Regulus was always busy, and they only ended up meeting in person a handful of times._

" _Me too," said Regulus, but something about it sounded disingenuous. Barty leaned in to kiss him, and he didn't pull away, which was something, but Regulus still seemed detached._

Barty forced himself back to reality, his thoughts running away with him as his focus blurred and dipped. The sight of blood and intestines in front of him was making his head spin. The smell mixed in with the old mustiness of the cellar making everything worse.

He looked away, hoping that would decrease the feeling that he was about to faint. This technique had been Bellatrix's idea, and after the few lessons he'd had where she was in a less than pleasant mood, he felt it best that he worked as hard as he could to master it.

"He's struggling," said Rodolphus from behind him, obviously to Bellatrix, a warning tone to his voice. Barty's stomach churned as he pushed himself even harder.

"He's fine," she replied dismissively. The sweat running down Barty's forehead increased.

"He clearly isn't," argued Rodolphus. "And he doesn't even need to know how to do this. Let him stop, there's no use in him wasting his time and energy."

"Are you deliberately trying to undermine me?" spat Bellatrix, displeasure coating every word. Barty felt the energy he was pouring into the torture dropping as he turned himself around to face them.

"No, I'm not. It was just my professional opinion."

Pushing the bleeding rat from his mind, Barty looked up as he tuned in to the ensuing discussion, which was becoming louder and more heated by the second. He glanced over at Rabastan, who wore the most bored expression Barty had seen since he last told his father anything willingly as the argument continued to escalate.

"Listen to me."

"No. You completely undermined me and can't even admit to it, it's pathetic."

"The only pathetic thing here is you responding like a petulant child just because someone challenged you."

"I am not. You completely disrespected my authority."

"What fucking authority? You don't have any." Barty's eyes were on the floor, desperate to latch onto something that wasn't the incredibly uncomfortable situation unfolding in front of him. The shouts were echoing off the walls, the booming and rumbling reminding him of the many times his father's voice had done the same.

"He did exactly what I asked. Where is the problem?"

"He was clearly struggling with it, and it wasn't even necessary for him to do." Barty was starting to wish the floor would swallow him. The fact they were arguing over him made his insides feel like the gutted rat on the desk had been reanimated and was digging around amongst them to punish him. "And then you went and acted like a child when I pointed it out."

"Well maybe you should have kept your mouth shut."

"Why? We're all as involved with this training as each other, we should be able to offer critique without somebody throwing a tantrum."

"I am not."

"You're the one making a scene, which Barty really didn't need to see."

"I wasn't just going to stand there and let you try and make a fool out of me."

"You're doing a pretty good job of that yourself right now."

Barty finally looked up, his eyes widening as he watched Bellatrix and Rodolphus screaming in each other's faces. Every cell in his body itched with discomfort, from the sweat on the back of his neck to the burning in his cheeks. He was finally starting to see what Rabastan had meant the other week when he said that they'd been on their best behaviour around him so far.

"You know what, we aren't doing this here," snarled Rodolphus, grabbing Bellatrix by the forearm and dragging her out of the room. Barty watched on, mouth agape as they disappeared through the entrance.

"Get your hands off me!" Bellatrix shouted, her shrill voice echoing back into the room. More shouting sounded from the other side of the door, which Barty could barely understand over the ringing in his ears, before the harsh cracking of a slap rang out.

"Has he just hit her?" stammered Barty, looking desperately at Rabastan, who seemed so unfazed by the whole situation that it doubled the discomfort.

"Actually that was probably her," Rabastan answered calmly, making his way over to Barty like the situation in the hallway wasn't happening at all. Hisses and grunts and shuffling that sounded like a struggle filtered into the room, followed by a guttural gasp for breath that was clearly female and the muffled thud of someone hitting the wall.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" whispered Barty harshly, astounded that Rabastan was just standing there letting it happen, while his entire body felt both cold and on fire at the same time.

"I'm used to this," answered Rabastan. The sound of another slap and more struggling entered the room between the shouts. "It used to be a lot worse."

"What?" Barty's eyes widened, his mouth falling further open as another dull thud echoed into the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a wand clattering to the floor.

"Like I said, nothing bothers me anymore," Rabastan stated, the look of controlled exasperation on his face telling of how many times he'd been in this situation before.

More screeching, obviously from Bellatrix, sounded from the other side of the door. It was evidently her wand that had been knocked to the ground, which was a smart move, thought Barty, given her level of skill with a wand. But Rodolphus was bigger, stronger, and could probably overpower her if she didn't have her magic to defend herself, providing she wasn't carrying any other weapons, which he knew that she often did. Barty continued to listen, his mind starting to focus again. There were two cracks a few seconds after each other, obviously the sounds of apparation, before Bellatrix screamed at Rodolphus to give her wand back.

"Go fetch," he spat at her, followed by a laugh so wickedly amused that if it wasn't so deep Barty would have thought it had come from Bellatrix. She screamed in frustration before storming out of the cellar, the echoes from her shoes on the concrete getting quieter and quieter as she moved further away.

Barty's head spun. The abrupt silence was too much at once, and he realized how shallow his breathing had become during the whole ordeal. He grabbed the bench to steady himself, just as Rodolphus came back into the room.

"Right," he began, his voice loud and commanding as he approached Rabastan. "I've got about ten minutes until she finds that thing, so you should probably get Barty out of here, he doesn't need to be around for this."

"Sure," agreed Rabastan, nodding as he unfolded his arms. "Yeah, I'll make sure he gets home."

Barty looked at Rodolphus, observing two scratch marks running down his face and a cut under one of his eyes, which he didn't seem to care about at all. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, but he was smiling, which made Barty realise just how dangerous he actually was. Aside from his physical size, he could be easily overshadowed by Bellatrix's skill and sadistic streak, but the complete lack of concern radiating from him now held the same kind of energy.

"Wish me luck," he said to his brother before leaving the room, a twisted grin of satisfaction on his face. Barty blinked.

"What just happened?" he said quietly, slowly turning his head to meet Rabastan's eyes.

"Sometimes I think my brother has a death wish," he answered, and Barty felt inclined to agree. Bellatrix had sounded so furious that she could have spat fire, and he thought it was funny. He'd actually gone to find her, knowing how angry she was. Barty found her explosive temper intimidating enough in the few instances it had been directed at him, he couldn't imagine willingly fighting her while she was in that state.

Rabastan had decided to take Barty to a small pub a few villages over from Hogsmede rather than letting him go home. He said that they could both use a drink, and Barty agreed without hesitation. He also didn't want to go home as loud arguments always made him think of his father, so seeing his face right now was as appealing as smashing his glass and gouging out his eyes with the shards.

"So it will probably be a couple of days before your next lesson," Rabastan informed Barty after sipping his whiskey. "Give things time to cool down." Barty drained his glass, the uneasiness not yet out of his system.

"So this is a regular occurrence?" he asked tentatively, still trying to process what had happened and the fact that it had happened so many times before that Rabastan was completely unbothered by it.

"Not as much as it used to be," he explained, drumming his fingers against the wooden table. "My first few years living with them were unbelievable." He rolled his eyes as he said it, and Barty struggled to picture a worse environment than the one he'd witnessed earlier.

"Our mother moved out in 1974 it got so bad," stated Rabastan, which caused Barty to choke out a strangled laugh.

"Have they always been like that?"

"No," answered Rabastan, taking another sip of whiskey. "He always says that joining changed her, brought out the worst in her."

"How have they not killed each other?" asked Barty, thinking that joining the Death Eaters had definitely brought out the worst in both of them.

"I don't know," sighed Rabastan. "It's a complicated situation. When they're getting on, they're fine, but when they aren't…"

"So what happens now?"

"You wait until someone gets in touch," Rabastan explained, leaning forward over the table. "They'll probably ignore each other for a few days and then act like it never happened as soon as one of them needs something from the other, that's how it usually goes."

"Does it not bother you? What they do to each other," asked Barty, his final question.

"It used to," said Rabastan, his gruff voice softening slightly with reflection. "But given what we do, I can't exactly be sanctimonious, can I?"

"That's a good point," admitted Barty, staring down into his empty glass. He realized then, one of the reasons he hated his father so much. His father pretended to be this mighty beacon of good, an upstanding law-abiding citizen, but went home and beat and dismissed his own child, treated his flesh and bone like he would never be good enough. He was a controlling bully, who then had the audacity to go out into the world and pretend he was perfect. Barty had never been able to put that anger into words, until Rabastan had incidentally done so. He was going to make his father pay. He was going to become a Death Eater and get the revenge he had longed for.


	5. Chapter 5

Four days passed before Barty heard from them again. He'd mostly been wandering around London alone, as he had to maintain the illusion that he had a job to his parents. He was sitting in a small secluded corner of Hyde Park where he used to come with Regulus during the summer when a bird landing on a tree branch just above his head startled him. He looked up, and the owl dropped a small piece of parchment into his hands. He looked around tentatively before opening it.

 _The house is safe again, come by tonight ~ Rab_

The parchment burst into flames as soon as Barty finished reading the note, turning to ash that crumbled between his fingers. He wiped it on his robes, feeling excitement and the familiar ache of longing swell in his chest. As uncomfortable as his last trip to their house had been, Barty missed being around the Lestrange's. He missed their banter, when it was playful, and how they welcomed him unquestioningly. He missed how they let him drink with them, and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him for who he was. Even though it was becoming clearer that there were many issues lying under the surface, Barty still preferred their company to the company of his parents.

He stayed in the park for a while after that, remembering all of the times he'd come here with Regulus in their Hogwarts days. How they'd bring bags of sweets with them and lie on the grass, looking up at the sky and just talking. Regulus had been the only person Barty could talk to honestly, the only person he felt safe with. Regulus also felt the same, confessing things to Barty that he daren't even think at home. He talked about the pressure from his family, sounding more and more desperate as he got older, desperate for another life. He talked about how much he missed having his brother around once he'd been disowned from the family, and how everyone expected him to go on like there had never been another person there.

It made the pain of missing him even worse, thinking about all of the hours they spent here in this park together. It brought back the feelings of loneliness and abandonment the first summer that Regulus became distant, and the time they argued here in the summer between Barty's sixth and seventh years. That had been the last time they'd come here together.

 _The sun was out, but there was a chill to the breeze that made Barty's arm hair stand on edge, making him question whether or not he should roll his sleeves back down. He waited patiently, silently watching the world go by, until the telltale rustling of someone else entering their spot sounded out._

" _Hey," said Barty enthusiastically as Regulus dropped down beside him, leaning over to kiss him immediately. Regulus relaxed into it, not seeming like his mind was elsewhere as he had done during most of their time together over this summer. Barty had been questioning whether to call him on it all summer, and debated it for half an hour before deciding that he was going to._

" _Why have you been so distant this summer?" he asked tentatively, breaking a moment of silence._

" _I haven't," replied Regulus, immediately defensive. His denial made Barty's chest tighten_

" _Yes you have," he argued, feeling his heart beat faster as his hurt and betrayal flew from his mouth "and last summer too. Is there something wrong with me?"_

" _No, it's not you," sighed Regulus. "there is nothing wrong with you."_

" _Well maybe you should start acting like it," spat Barty. Regulus closed his eyes._

" _And maybe you should stop making assumptions about how I feel," he countered, his words a harsh whisper as frustration darkened his eyes. "Not every thought that runs through my head is about you."_

" _Thanks," Barty scoffed sarcastically._

" _Please just trust me on this," pleaded Regulus, his voice shaking slightly. "There is nothing wrong with us."_

" _Then why don't you act that way?"_

" _You couldn't possibly understand," Regulus snapped, backing away by an inch._

" _Try me," argued Barty._

" _I can't," shouted Regulus, not angry but desperate._

" _Well then it's clear," huffed Barty, anger and hurt exploding like a fire through his body. "You don't trust me. Not like you used to."_

" _That's not it," Regulus continued, unravelling in front of him. "I can't believe you're being this childish."_

He'd been so confused back then, lashing out because he was hurt. But the further Barty fell down the path that Regulus had followed, the more he began to question why he did. Most of Regulus's family were supporters of the Dark Lord only, they didn't go out and join him in the way that Bellatrix, who was clearly made for it, had. Couldn't Regulus have done the same? He was too soft for this life, a contrast to where Barty was hard. He could understand why Regulus would buckle under the pressure from his family, but he couldn't stop his mind from questioning whether Regulus's disappearance was more related to his involvement with the Death Eaters than he initially expected.

That night at around ten thirty, Barty went over to Lestrange manor. Rabastan opened the door, leading him into the lounge on the east wing corridor. Barty had been in this room a few times before, and was always struck by the inky hue that the dusky rose and midnight blue striped wallpaper gave the room. There were two glasses of whiskey sat on the coffee table, and Barty found Rodolphus sat on the largest couch, his dark robes a stark contrast against the muted pink of the furniture.

"Sit down," he said to Barty, who had forgotten that he was still standing. He nodded and shuffled over to the two seated couch facing the fireplace, its back higher at one end and then sloping downward in a perfect curve before climbing back up just slightly at the other end. Barty found it stiff and uncomfortable.

"I'd like to apologise for what happened the last time you were here," began Rodolphus, folding his arms over his chest. Barty was met abruptly with images of the last time he saw him, twisted amusement glistening in his eyes and smile as he took off to willingly walk into the raging fire that was Bellatrix's temper. The memory made his chest tighten with discomfort.

"I never intended for you to see that," he explained. Barty nodded, trying to displace the awkwardness swimming through his veins by drumming his fingers against his leg under his robes.

"You see, Bellatrix can be very difficult. She's unbearably arrogant and highly explosive, which make for a bad combination." There was a bored and clinical tone to his voice, like he was talking about a test subject and not his own wife. Barty found it strange, but indicative of how desensitised to her he'd become. "She uses fear to control people, but I'm not afraid of her, which evidently she doesn't like."

Guilt spread through Barty's chest as he acknowledged his own growing fear of her, making him feel transparent. He also couldn't help but cling onto the tiny drops of venom that laced Rodolphus's concluding words, the shift in tone so subtle Barty almost missed it. There was a story behind his calmness, and Barty was simultaneously desperate and afraid to know what it was.

"Where is she?" asked Barty, becoming aware that she was not in the room with them.

"Upstairs," answered Rodolphus, picking up his glass and taking a sip. "I'm sure she'll be down shortly."

Barty watched Rabastan follow, draining his glass and placing it back on the table. He glanced back over at Rodolphus, noticing that the cut under his eye was still there, and that he now had a new red line running down the side of his neck. At least now he understood why he rarely saw him or Bellatrix without some sort of scratch, bruise or mark.

"You weren't too bothered were you?" he asked Barty, almost startling him as the silence broke. Barty shook his head into concentration. "It was incredibly unprofessional of us but it wasn't too uncomfortable for you, was it?" Barty shook his head.

"I've had worse done to me at home," he answered, the truth and a lie.

"Good," replied Rodolphus. "You're going to need strong nerve." Barty was about to ask for what, when the sound of the door creaking open drew everyone's attention. Bellatrix slipped into the room and strode over to them, her movements fluid as a cat's. She stood behind Rabastan's armchair, trailing her arm over the top.

"Have you told him yet?" she asked Rodolphus, her voice low and sultry. She was smiling wickedly.

"I was just about to," he answered, sitting forward so he was no longer slouched against the back of the couch.

"Well I would say that I'm sorry I spoiled your fun," drawled Bellatrix, her voice distractingly alluring. "But I was quite hoping to do it myself."

"I thought you might," Rodolphus said, smiling at her knowingly. Barty found it bizarre how only a few days ago they were fighting and screaming at each other, it really was like nothing had happened at all.

"Tell me what?" asked Barty, anxiousness bubbling in his chest.

"That you're coming out with us tonight dear," explained Bellatrix, her voice heavy with delight as the mischievous grin on her face grew wider. Cold rushed over Barty in waves as he realized what this meant. His stomach felt like an entire block of birds had taken off inside it as it sank in.

"What? Like…"

"Yes," confirmed Bellatrix. This was it. This was his test. He was finally going to be able to commit fully, providing that he passed, which he was sure he would. He would finally be one of them, completely, fully. As gruelling as their work was, Barty knew that he belonged here, and he was more than ready to prove it.

"Well, say something," urged Rabastan, and Barty realized that he'd just been sat there staring into space.

"If I'd have known I would have come more prepared," he stammered, finally feeling the nerves kick in after the shock and excitement. They all laughed.

"Nobody is prepared for their test Barty," explained Rabastan, smiling. "That's part of what makes it a test."

"Well what are we waiting for?" interjected Bellatrix loudly, excitement radiating as much from her as it was Barty. "He knows, now let's get going."

The four of them apparated to a small field, which was surrounded on three sides by wooden fences, the gardens of muggle homes. It was dark, and they were huddled by a small tree to protect themselves from view. It was cold. Barty shivered as he regretted not wearing an overcoat.

"So where are we going?" he asked, trying to stop his teeth from chattering.

"Do you see that house, just down there," said Bellatrix, pointing to the end house on the row adjacent to the one they were standing behind.

"Yes."

"That's where we're going." Bellatrix made a signal with her hands, and the four of them began the short walk to the back of the house, keeping their eyes on the bedroom windows of the other houses as they moved. Once they we're there, they let themselves in through the back gate, unlocking the back door with an alohamora.

"You know what to do, don't you?" whispered Bellatrix as they made their way through the ground floor of the muggle house. Barty felt his heart pounding in his chest, worried it could be heard amongst the silence.

"Yes," he breathed, gripping his wand in his pocket. He knew that he would need to kill everyone inside. Eventually the muggles heard the noise from upstairs and came down to investigate. They we're a couple who must have been in their fifties, both wearing pyjamas. Barty worked quick, launching right into torturing them.

He knew that he had to use all three curses before they could leave, that much he'd worked out from his training. He ended them quickly, making sure to demonstrate exactly what was needed to pass the test and nothing more. Once they lay prone on the floor, Barty shoved his wand back in his pocket and walked into the kitchen, desperate to feel something cold.

He went to the sink, running the cold tap and thrusting his hands underneath, feeling as if his body had been completely drained of energy.

"Are you alright Barty?" asked Rabastan, who had appeared beside him, resting his hand on Barty's shoulder. "Are you going to be sick?"

"No," he answered immediately, breathing deeply as he rubbed his wet hands over his face.

"It's okay," Rabastan continued. "You wouldn't be the first."

"I'm fine," Barty replied, gripping the counter as droplets of water fell off his nose. "I think."

"That's good," said Rabastan, stepping away from Barty and leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter. "But the first one is always the worst. I felt it, and its okay if you do too."

The sound of people coming down the stairs made Barty jump. He initially panicked that there were more people, who had been hidden upstairs, but it turned out to be Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Barty then noticed that the bodies were missing.

"I think we should go somewhere else?" offered Bellatrix, who stood in the entrance to the kitchen while Rodolphus started looking in the cupboards by the back door. "We should go somewhere else, show him what we can really do."

"I think that's up to him," replied Rabastan, almost sternly. "It's no small thing, what he's done in there tonight." Barty watched Rodolphus flick a switch on a big metal box in one of the cupboards. "Give him some time for it to sink in."

"Its fine," Barty blurted, bringing everyone's attention to him. "We can go."

"Excellent," grinned Bellatrix.

They quickly left the same way they'd entered, and walked to the other side of the green to discuss their next target. It was agreed that hitting the same area in the same night may not be the best idea, so they decided to apparate a few towns over. Barty had asked some questions, like what the tampering with the box in the kitchen was about. They told him that it made an alternate cause of death seem probably so that muggle and wizarding authorities didn't investigate.

They settled on another house, this one in the middle of a street with another house attached on one side. They let themselves in through the front door, with Bellatrix informing them that things were to go as usual. She instructed Barty to sit down and wait, as he didn't have a role in the dynamic yet.

When the muggles came down to investigate, they slowly walked into the Lestrange's trap. Barty watched on from the back room as the couple found Rabastan in their kitchen, tentatively threatening him as Rodolphus stalked up behind them from the front room and subdued the husband, grabbing him roughly. The wife screamed, and a flash of light hit the hallway ceiling. Barty suspected it to be a silencing charm. Bellatrix grinned at Barty before stepping out of the back room, sending the woman flying into the wall.

The husband and wife were forced into the back room, which contained a couch, dining table and a few cabinets. Barty then watched the most gruesome thing he'd ever seen. It was clear that they all had well rehearsed roles, with Bellatrix as the main torturer. Barty watched in horror and awe as she tortured, taunted, and mutilated the couple for almost an hour. At one point, a girl who couldn't have been much older than Barty came downstairs after hearing the screaming, and ended up screaming and writhing on the floor in pain with what Barty assumed to be her parents. If anything had made him close to vomiting this evening, it wasn't his test. It was this.

It finally hit Barty just how true the things he'd heard about Bellatrix had been. He watched her cut and curse them, laugh at their pain as their blood coated her hands and face. She teased them, forced them to watch their loved ones suffer while shouting how worthless they were at them, and all the while she was enjoying it. The others barely joined in, and when they did it was only to subdue the muggles or to eventually put them out of their misery.

The room was too warm, for the middle of the night in late October. The house was heated and the room was small, and the mixture of generated warmth and body what was making Barty's head spin. The sickly metallic scent of blood was stuck in his nostrils, permeating the air with limited means of escape. Barty couldn't wait to be outside again, where he could breathe air that didn't reek of death.

After the muggles were all dead, Rabastan seemed eager to leave. He grabbed Barty's arm and ushered him out of the room as he tried to avoid looking at the floor. Barty inhaled deeply in the hallway, the disgusting smell less potent there.

"Are you coming back with us?" he heard Rabastan say from the doorway to the back room. Barty realized that Bellatrix and Rodolphus hadn't moved.

"Hmm," said Bellatrix, who was perched on the counter of the dining table, one leg crossed over the other. "I think we're going to stay here and um." She gave a low laugh. "Clean up."

"We'll see you at home," added Rodolphus, who was leaning against the cabinet closest to the table, glancing over at Bellatrix.

"Ok, see you at home," replied Rabastan, an uncomfortable layer to his voice. Barty noticed him grimace as they left the house and apparated back to the manor.

"Right," began Rabastan once they were back in the foyer. "I'm going straight to bed." Barty let his eyes take in the change of scenery, desperate to erase the bleeding bodies on the floor from his mind "You can stay in my parents' old room, that way you don't have to leave to use the bathroom."

"Okay," Barty nodded, hoping that it looked like he was paying attention. He followed Rabastan up the stairs and left, down a corridor leading to the west wing. The doors he was brought to revealed the biggest bedroom Barty had ever seen.

"Try and sleep," instructed Rabastan, who was leaning against the wall beside the door. "Talk to me in the morning if you're struggling." Barty gave a weak nod, desperate to get inside and put the evening in the past.

"I'm not as hardened as those two," confessed Rabastan, which Barty had already known. His actions throughout Barty's entire training had shown that. "I know it's tough at first, but you've just got to learn to survive."

Barty gave one last feeble nod and went inside. After taking a long shower, he climbed into the bed and hoped for sleep that he knew he wouldn't find. As he lie awake at night, he thought of Regulus. There was no way that his Regulus would have been comfortable with the display of ruthless violence that he had seen tonight, never mind actively participated in. Barty questioned more and more how Regulus had ended up where he was now. He couldn't picture Regulus killing as he had done tonight. The deeper he delved, the less it made sense, and all he could think of was how that may have led to Regulus's disappearance.


	6. Chapter 6

Barty let out a deep breath, watching it billow like smoke in front of his face, just visible in the darkness. The air was so cold that his ears were hurting, and the heavy drum of his heart pounding in his chest was almost deafening against the silence of the night. He saw a jet of green light shooting up into the sky. That was his signal to move.

He strode up the hill, the wind blowing his cloak in all directions as he advanced. He imagined himself as everybody who had come before him, picturing all of the different footsteps that were imprinted on this grassy hill. One pair in particular stuck in his mind, and he tried to picture how he'd felt as he made the trek up this hill to make the biggest decision of his life.

Barty imagined that Regulus was definitely nervous as he'd made this walk, his heart had probably been in his mouth, the same way Barty's was now. He wondered if Regulus had any doubts, but kept on going as he thought of his family standing in the crowd at the top of the hill.

As he neared the top, Barty could just make out the crowd of people who had gathered to watch the most important moment of his life. They would soon be his associates, his comrades. He'd finally found a place where he belonged.

When he reached the top of the hill, which was the Riddle family cemetery, he stopped. The crowd all wore identical cloaks to his, and their faces were all covered with masks. A mask that Barty would soon be wearing himself. In the centre of the gathering, the only person unmasked stood. His skin was so pale that it glowed in the moonlight, and his presence exuded power without him even having to move or speak. Barty made his way through the crowd, which had parted on two sides, and took his place in front of the Dark Lord.

"Bartemius Crouch," said the Dark Lord, his voice cold and almost accusatory. "You are here to swear your unwavering loyalty to me, to serve me and obey me, in order to work towards a better wizarding society for us all."

"Yes, my lord," he replied, bowing as he addressed him.

"You have proven your capability to serve me," the Dark Lord continued, slowly advancing towards Barty. "Been trained and tested by trusted members of my inner circle."

"Yes, my lord," he repeated, captivated by the tangible power that moved in the air around the Dark Lord.

"Well then, it would be my pleasure to welcome you to us," he said, stopping dead in front of Barty and withdrawing his wand from his cloak. Up close, Barty could see the red of his eyes. He looked both human and inhuman, like some form of higher being.

"Give me your left arm," commanded the Dark Lord, and Barty obeyed immediately. He was ready for this, ready for the pain, ready for the lifetime of debt the mark represented. He would no longer look at his mentors with envy whenever they exposed theirs, he would be free to mingle with the other's, no longer regarded with suspicion and distrust since he was just a trainee. He was ready to have a visual marker that he belonged somewhere.

The Dark Lord pressed the tip of his wand against Barty's arm, and without a sound, jets of burning pain shot through him. He clenched his jaw, forcing short breaths out through his nose as he maintained composure, refusing the show the others how much pain he was in.

He watched as the tattoo formed, the distinct markings of a skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth becoming permanently engraved on his skin. He bowed again when it was over, lapping up the cheers and applause from the other members. As Barty straightened up, the Dark Lord grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him so he was facing the crowd.

"Bartemius is one of us now," he announced, his voice still cold but somehow conveying his satisfaction. "You will welcome him as I have."

There was another round of cheers, and in the midst of it, the Dark Lord disappeared. This signalled everyone's cue to leave. Barty, and everyone else, ended up back at the Lestrange's. They'd told Barty that they rarely held parties in their house, but Bellatrix was looking for an excuse to brag about training a minister's son, and the date was close enough to Rodolphus's 30th birthday that they could allow a party to celebrate his marking.

Naturally, there were places that were entirely off limits to guests. The entire upstairs floor, and several of the downstairs rooms had been banned from guest visitation, which Barty knew of in advance so he wouldn't walk into whatever unpleasant hex or jinx they'd set up to stop people entering the rooms. The rest of the guests weren't given that luxury.

Barty smiled and sipped his drink as Bellatrix dragged him from Death Eater to Death Eater in order to boast about what a success he was. Her dress was incredible, and if it were the first time he'd ever met her, Barty was unsure if he'd be able to pick his jaw up off the floor. It was black with long lace sleeves, and exposed most of her chest, falling into a slim floor length skirt that was slit up one side, lace covering the opening. Barty felt differently when he looked at her now, after seeing the sides of her that hid beneath charm and beauty. It was like looking at a buffet crawling with maggots.

He knew that the Death Eaters were keen to have him because of who his father was, and he truly felt the smug satisfaction radiating from everybody he talked to as he was paraded around. After Bellatrix had introduced him to everyone, eventually getting distracted by a conversation with her sister, Barty slipped away to get another drink.

After grabbing another glass of champagne, Barty took himself off to the lounge at the far end of the east wing. There was nobody in there, and he settled down in the tan leather armchair by the fireplace, exhaling with relief that he was no longer surrounded by other people.

He pictured himself and Regulus tucked away in this room while the party raged on outside, if he were here he knew that was what they would be doing. They were both introverts content with their own company and no one else's. He wondered if they'd thrown a similar party for Regulus, what with him being family. He remembered Regulus talking about the first time he ever got blackout drunk, which had been between his sixth and seventh year.

" _Have you ever been drunk?"_

" _No," replied Barty, losing his place in the book he was reading. "Why do you ask?"_

" _Because you never want to spend time with the others on a Friday night," explained Regulus. He tucked a thick strand of hair behind his ear before leaning in closer, as if to make the conversation more private. "Is it a home issue?"_

" _No," answered Barty immediately. His father's complicated relationship with alcohol had in no way rubbed off on him, in fact, it had quite the opposite effect. "I just don't feel like doing it. And I wouldn't think you would either, considering what you are now."_

" _Of course I want to keep my secret hidden," replied Regulus, his tone hushed as his eyes scanned the room. "But the quidditch lads have invited me out to the pub the day after the game and I wanted to know if you'd come too."_

 _Barty understood the Regulus's second love was quidditch. He'd encouraged Regulus when he'd tried out for the team, cheered him on during every game, but him being on the team meant that Regulus had friends outside of their little bubble, which Barty had never been overly keen on. Slytherin were playing Hufflepuff on Friday for the opening game of the season, so Barty knew it was important._

" _Ok I'll go," he answered flatly, still not having forgiven Regulus completely for how distant he'd been over the summer._

" _Great," beamed Regulus, his smile already making Barty less frosty. "Because I need you to keep an eye on me. I got so ridiculously drunk at a party this summer that even thinking about it makes me feel ill."_

Eventually Rabastan found Barty staring into the fireplace as he clutched his empty glass of champagne. He walked up to him, leaning on the back of the armchair.

"Hiding away from us, are you?" he teased. Barty jumped.

"No," he replied, twirling his glass in his hands. "Just wishing someone was here."

"I see," said Rabastan, sitting down on the couch. "We did this for him too. Bella insisted, she was so proud. He didn't really like the attention much."

"I can see that," replied Barty, smiling as he knew that Regulus had felt the same way he did.

"We got him so drunk," laughed Rabastan. "I had to put the poor lad to bed."

"He told me about that," said Barty. "What he could remember of it, anyway."

"That appears to be my designated job at parties," stated Rabastan, wrapping his arm over the arm of the couch. "Since those two can't enjoy a party without getting absolutely inebriated."

"I bet you've got some stories," laughed Barty, trying to picture it.

"I do," confirmed Rabastan. "But they'd probably kill me if I told you." The words brought Barty back to the time he'd been in here alone with Bellatrix, and she'd freaked and thrown him out. He wondered if he'd ever learn to be able to read minds that skilfully.

"Anyway," said Rabastan loudly, leaning forwards as if he was about to stand. "I didn't come in here to chat, I came in to drag you back out there."

"Do I have to?" groaned Barty exaggeratedly, half feigning annoyance.

"Yes," answered Rabastan. "My fellow hosts have disappeared to Merlin knows where, so I'm on my own out there. Plus it's your party."

"Fine," grumbled Barty, rising out of the armchair and following Rabastan into the dining room. Following Rabastan around was much more fun than being carted from person to person and presented like a prize trophy by Bellatrix, which meant Barty relaxed more. Rabastan was very sociable, and the other's seemed to like him, which made things much easier for Barty as he mostly stood and listened. It was much better than answering questions about his father from strangers.

An hour and a half passed before Bellatrix and Rodolphus emerged from wherever they'd been, and they immediately strode over to Barty. Rabastan was talking to a man who he couldn't remember the name of, so he'd moved over to the small couch by the window at the back of the dining room.

"There you are," said Bellatrix enthusiastically as she sat down beside him, swaying slightly as she fell into the seat. She was wearing a different, less distracting dress to the one she had on earlier, and smelled strongly of soap and champagne. "Why are you hiding all the way over here?"

"I like the quiet," replied Barty, inching back as she tilted forwards and almost fell against him. She was obviously drunk. "Where have you been?"

"Just upstairs," she answered bursting into laughter afterwards.

"Don't mind her, she's drunk," slurred Rodolphus, who was perched on the arm of the couch.

"Shut up," Bellatrix replied, lazily smacking his leg. "Like you're not."

"Well if you hadn't hogged that bottle of champagne then maybe I would be," he replied, stifling a yawn. Barty felt his chest tighten, concern that this was about to escalate into one of the arguments he witnessed last week brimming in his head.

"I know what we should do," blurted Bellatrix, still sounding uncharacteristically enthusiastic. Barty released the tension in his shoulders. This wasn't going to be one of those times. Bellatrix wrapped an arm around Barty, leaning against him heavily and sending him into the arm of the couch. "We should get Barty a drink."

"Do you want a drink?" asked Rodolphus, his eyebrows raised as he watched Bellatrix set herself upright, her arm still wound around Barty's neck. Barty had only drunk two glasses of champagne, so he couldn't see why not.

"Go on then," he agreed, causing Bellatrix to let out a wicked laugh as she rose to her feet, stumbling as she made her way out from between the couch and the coffee table. Barty followed them to a large glass cabinet on the other side of the room, from which they retrieved a bottle of Firewhiskey and three glasses.

Barty watched as they poured out the whiskey, handing Barty the fullest glass. He watched them down theirs in one before pouring themselves another glass, sipping lightly as he tried not to choke on the burn as it slivered down his throat.

A few glasses later and Barty felt invincible. His whole body was buzzing and warm, and his shyness had completely melted away. He laughed and danced and continued to drink, people and rooms spinning past him like he was flying. He couldn't remember ever feeling this happy. The atmosphere was crackling with electricity and humming with noise, he was marked, and he felt a true sense of belonging for the first time in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

It was two days after his marking when Barty received his first summons from the Dark Lord. It was eleven pm and he was trying to fall asleep, the burning rippling up his arm and jolting his whole body awake. He crept around his bedroom, trying not to wake his parents as he changed from his pyjamas and apparated out of the house. His father had been less suspicious than he expected, given the amount of time Barty spent sleeping at other's houses. He'd barely said a word when Barty dragged himself in Saturday evening after spending most of the day sleeping off a hangover at Lestrange Manor. All he'd had to say was that he'd crashed on a friend's sofa after a night in the pub.

He smiled to himself when he'd got up to his room after coming in, that party being the best he'd felt in a long while. His own Hogwarts graduation party hadn't felt as good, although that was mostly due to his father being there, making it all about him and still criticising Barty's N.E.W.T. results despite the fact he'd graduated. Barty finally felt wanted, included. Agendas aside, everyone at that party was happy he was there, and they made sure he had fun.

He may have had a little too much fun, and definitely suffered for it the next day. He wasn't sure why he kept letting Bellatrix and Rodolphus make his drinks, but it had not been a good idea. He couldn't even remember how he got to bed, although he suspected Rabastan had something to do with it. The last thing he could remember was almost vomiting on their garden patio, and then somebody getting jinxed on the stairs and distracting everyone. Barty had followed to see who it was, and found Severus Snape, who had been two years ahead of him at Hogwarts, with just his head visible. The rest of his body had been swallowed up by the stairs.

He knew Snape wasn't the only person who'd caught a jinx, he had foggy memories of laughter at other people getting hit, but that was the last solid memory he had of the party. He'd reflected on it all weekend, feeling smug that his father had no idea what he now was. He was excited as he walked up the entrance of the Riddle house where the Dark lord resided, eager to find out what his first instructions would be.

He found the Dark Lord in an upstairs lounge, slumped in a black leather armchair. He beckoned for Barty to take a seat in the one next to him after he'd made his arrival known.

"Yes my lord," he replied quietly, slipping into the chair beside him.

"Do you know why I have called you here?" asked the Dark Lord, his voice sending shards of ice into Barty's stomach. The power that flowed from the Dark Lord when he spoke was stifling. His voice was cold, and piercing in a way that made Barty squirm. It was a similar feeling to being around Bellatrix when she lost her temper, only the Dark Lord maintained faultless composure.

"No my lord," he answered, hoping that his voice didn't break. He didn't want the Dark Lord to sense his uneasiness, although he suspected that he already had.

"I just wanted to get to know you a little," he answered, his words turning into what sounded like a harsh laugh at the end, like Barty's nerves amused him. "As I'm sure you are aware, I was very eager to have you at my side. I had my best followers train you to ensure your success and they did not disappoint."

"Thank you my lord," said Barty, timidly accepting the compliment.

"I suspect that you knew my first request for you would be to spy on your father," the Dark Lord explained, his voice like stone. Barty nodded.

"I did, my lord," answered Barty.

"Good," he said sharply, leaning forwards and angling himself towards Barty. He still lost his breath when he took in the Dark Lord's features, a mangled hybrid of serpent and human. He wondered if he had always looked that way, or if it was the result of something far beyond his knowledge.

"As your father is leading the campaign for the apprehension of my followers," began the Dark Lord, his ghostly hand curling over the arm of the chair. "I would like you to gather as much information as you can regarding what he knows. I want to know how much he knows about his teams investigations, if he has names, if there are arrests imminent. I want everything, do you understand?"

"Yes my lord," confirmed Barty, licking the corner of his lips as satisfaction replaced the nerves that swam through his insides. This was the perfect opportunity to get one over on his father like he'd always wanted, although this version was less violent that the fantasies created in his head. However, this was better, this would target the thing he loves most, his work. It would slowly erode his efforts away until he was driving himself insane as he tried to figure out where he was going wrong. "I would be delighted to deliver this information to you my lord."

"Good," he said, rising from his chair. Barty's eyes followed him as he moved to hover in front of Barty's chair, his shadow creeping towards him. He looked up at his shockingly red eyes, flinching away from their penetrating gaze almost immediately.

"Now I said that I was going to get to know you Bartemius," he began, sticking his hands in the pockets of his robes. "And that was not a lie, however, it will be done in a way not traditionally associated with two people getting to know one another." Barty's smug feeling instantly returned to nerves.

"As I do with all of my followers, new and old, I will invade your mind," the Dark Lord explained. Barty swallowed. "You will let me see everything. Your darkest moments, your most intimate."

Barty felt his insides sink at the thought of the Dark Lord watching the most secret parts of his life. The thought of his seeing his father, and Regulus, filled him with such strong discomfort that his entire body felt hot. The best moments of his life, and the worst, the moments he held dearest to him and never wanted to share, like his first kiss with Regulus.

" _You're delusional," laughed Barty, crossing his ankles over as he stretched out on his bed. "There's no way that Edward Bulstrode is like us, let alone interested in you."_

" _What makes you so sure?"_

" _Have you seen him around girls? He's like a toad with a dribbling problem," retorted Barty._

" _I'm not sure that works," countered Regulus, sitting down at Barty's side. "And who says he's not into both."_

" _There's no way." Was all Barty replied._

" _So do you think it's just us?"_

" _Probably not," answered Barty, sighing slightly. "But I'm not really interested in finding out."_

" _Why not?"_

" _Because," began Barty, feeling his heart jump. "I'm only interested in knowing about you."_

" _What do you mean?" said Regulus, his eyes narrowing. Barty sat up, their bodies becoming parallel._

" _This," he said, before reaching over and cupping his cheek, pressing his lips to his. Regulus seemed hesitant at first, so Barty pulled away, but their eyes met in the narrow space between their faces and Regulus pulled him back, kissing him with less apprehension._

"Everything I wish to see, I shall," he finished, such a calmly delivered demand. Barty tried to suppress the heat that was flushing his face as he submitted.

"Yes my lord," he agreed, bowing his head as he prepared for the invasion.

"Legilimens," he whispered, and Barty felt the force of the Dark Lord entering his mind. He winced against the sensation, like his head was being repeatedly pecked by an owl as he gripped the arms of the chair.

The Dark Lord didn't stay in Barty's mind long, and Barty had no idea which memories he'd seen, as he'd made no attempt to resist him. The dizzying pressure released once the Dark Lord had withdrawn, and Barty sunk back into the chair with a loud expulsion of breath.

"Very good," the Dark Lord mused, his words slow and drawn out as he began to pace in front of Barty. "I was deliberate in making my presence in your head known this time. I won't always be so obvious." Barty blinked at him.

"I do this so I know who I can trust," he explained. "Nobody is as good an occlumens as I am, therefore if anybody is having doubts." He shot Barty a look, his tone twisting in a way that made Barty feel accused. "I'll know."

"I completely understand, my lord," he said, anxiety creeping up the back of his neck as he pondered why the Dark Lord had pointed suspicion at him.

"Report to me again once you have some information," he instructed, turning to walk out of the room. Barty let his eyes flit around the room, desperate for somewhere to focus.

"You may leave now," came the Dark Lord's voice from the shadows. Barty jumped into action, excusing himself before heading outside. The chill of the air hit him like a wave, and he shuddered as he gathered his bearings and apparated home.

He contemplated beginning his mission as soon as he was home, banking on his father being passed out from everything he'd drunk after coming home from work, but eventually deciding against it. He suspected that his father would have placed an advanced lock or jinx on the door to his study, and the middle of the night wasn't the best time to start trying to break in.

The next day, after trying to break into his father's office for three hours, Barty decided that he needed a break. He sent word to the Lestrange's that he wished to come over, receiving permission within the hour. It was almost six when he arrived, the house elf letting him in.

Barty quickly found that he was not their only guests. Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix's sister, was standing in the foyer with her husband Lucius and their four month old son Draco. All five of the adults turned to look at Barty as he entered.

"Evening all," he said awkwardly, walking over to the group gathered in the middle of the foyer, who quickly returned to their conversation.

"Please," whined Narcissa, jostling her son in her arms. "Everybody else who could take him is going to be at the dinner, you're the only people I can ask."

"Cissy, you know we could get called away at a moment's notice," argued Bellatrix, not angry but exasperated as she met her sisters pleading eyes. "That is not appropriate for looking after a child."

"I know," she sighed. "But you're my last hope. And how likely is it for all of you to be called at once?"

"Fairly likely," answered Rodolphus. Narcissa huffed.

"If they can't take him Darling, they can't take him," Lucius chimed in, clearly displeased at the thought of leaving his son with his sister in law, judging by the expression on his face.

"Are you trying to suggest we can't look after him properly?" accused Bellatrix, stepping closer to Lucius while scowling at him.

"Whatever gave you that impression," Lucius replied sarcastically. Barty watched Narcissa and Rodolphus look at each other and roll their eyes.

"For your information," began Bellatrix, getting louder as she inched closer. "We've looked after Draco plenty of times before and he's been perfectly fine."

"I think by plenty, you mean three," countered Lucius, his voice remaining cold and detached, similar to the Dark Lord. "And while nothing has happened to him yet while he has been in your care, I have no doubt that inevitably something will."

"How dare you!" shouted Bellatrix, making Draco burst into tears. Narcissa immediately began rocking him in her arms.

"How dare you suggest that we would endanger your child," Bellatrix continued, her voice now a harsh whisper. "He's family, and while he unfortunately has your genes, he also has the blood of the house of Black in his veins. That's important."

"We're taking him," announced Bellatrix, striding over to stand beside Narcissa. "And if we do get called, we'll find someone else to dump him on." Lucius and Narcissa both shot her an unimpressed look. She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Fine," huffed Lucius, tensing his jaw. "We're running late anyway."

"Goodbye Darling," cooed Narcissa as she kissed her son before handing him over to Bellatrix. The two of them then disapparated out of the foyer.

Barty let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the exchange was all over, except for the fact that they now had a baby to look after. Bellatrix adjusted Draco in her arms, looking clearly uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped, clearly at Rodolphus, who was shooting her a sternly disapproving look.

"Every fucking time," he groaned, closing his eyes in frustration as he clenched his fist.

"He needed telling," spat Bellatrix in response. Barty felt the awkwardness in the air tangibly thicken.

"The situation did not need escalating," argued Rodolphus, keeping his voice low.

"But he-" stammered Bellatrix, her eyes wider and her voice tight.

"I understand that the man is an idiot but you could have just let them leave," interrupted Rodolphus. Bellatrix tensed her jaw.

"And let him get away with saying I wasn't capable of looking after my own nephew," she fired back, shifting Draco in her arms so he was as far away from her voice as he could be.

"If it meant that we didn't have to watch your sister's brat then yes," he continued, pressing his lips together before letting out a short breath. "Do you want him for the whole evening?"

"No, I'm useless with children," responded Bellatrix. Barty blinked, realising why he was so annoyed with her.

"Give him to me," interjected Rabastan, stepping over to Bellatrix with his arms outstretched. "I'll have him." Bellatrix handed him over and stormed upstairs. "Sorry Barty."

"It's okay." Barty nodded, ignoring the heat flushing his face and the discomfort flowing through him. Rabastan started moving towards the east wing.

"Tact, Barty," began Rodolphus, causing Barty to stop mid stride. He looked up at him and blinked "It's a very valuable trait." He then walked off in the other direction, towards the dining room.

Bellatrix never came back downstairs, so Barty helped Rodolphus and Rabastan entertain Draco until Narcissa and Lucius came back for him. It was late when he got home, and he spent a moment in the front garden thinking up a tale of where he'd been. His parents had undoubtedly been at the same Ministry dinner that Narcissa and Lucius were at, so they should have been home. Barty walked in to find his mother in the study, and his father nowhere to be seen.

"Where have you been dear?" asked his mother, rising from her seat and meeting him in the hallway.

"At the pub," he answered nonchalantly, knowing that his mother wouldn't question it.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time there," she began, before something in her voice changed. "What's that on your back?"

"What's what on my back?"

"There's a white stain down your robes," his mother explained. Barty closed his eyes in exasperation. Baby sick.

"Someone must have spilled something on me," he responded, grimacing. "I must not have noticed."

"Take your robe off and give it to Winky," his mother suggested. Barty felt all of his muscles harden at once.

"No," he replied, far too hastily to be inconspicuous. His mother shot him a concerned look. He laughed nervously.

"I mean," he began, his voice wavering. "I'll take it off in my room." He then ran upstairs.

A loud sigh of relief fell from his lips once his bedroom door was closed. He'd forgotten that he'd have to conceal his mark from his parents, as the only example he'd had to follow was Regulus, and his family were proud, not active enemies. Although he did still keep his hidden.

" _Why must we do this here?" asked Barty, neediness lacing his voice as Regulus ushered him into a small broom cupboard just outside the Slytherin common room. "The dorms are pretty much empty."_

" _Because I can't risk anyone seeing it," explained Regulus, running his hands along Barty's arms as he backed him into the wall. "You know the teachers are cracking down on students who are looking to join."_

" _But what about when you change for quidditch?" asked Barty, beginning to feel like as big a secret as the mark on Regulus's arm. Everything about him felt secretive lately._

" _Confundus charm," Regulus offered weakly._

" _I want to see it," said Barty._

" _Why?"_

" _I just do," he replied. Regulus didn't need to keep secrets with him, but it still felt like he was. Barty wanted him to know how he was feeling._

 _Regulus pulled up his sleeve, whispered lumos, and exposed the skull and snake tattoo that adorned his arm._


	8. Chapter 8

Barty was thankful for the mask that was covering his face as he made his way down the darkened alleyway. The wind was forceful and bitterly cold, rushing along his body as it whipped the ends of his cloak. His hood was frequently being blown off, meaning that he had to withdraw his hands from the comfort of his pockets in order to pull it back over his head, leaving them numb.

The alley opened up into an empty street, the only sign that the place wasn't abandoned a sole downstairs light in one of the houses. Barty followed the others away from that one, keeping in the shadows as much as possible as they tried to settle on a house. Once one was decided, everyone filed into the front garden as the door was unlocked.

He knew what to expect, despite this being his first official raid. The last raid he'd been on had been purely for fun. He thought of the look of sheer, unfiltered excitement on Bellatrix's face as she felt her mark begin to burn, seconds before Barty felt the electric sensation spread through his arm.

This time they were cloaked and masked, meaning that it was official business. The Dark Lord had stated that he felt standards had been slipping, since everyone had been so preoccupied with obtaining the prophecy and tracking down members of The Order of the Phoenix. They were to conduct a routine raid, and leave a mark so everyone knew that they hadn't been completely sidetracked.

The house was silent, quaint but well kept. Barty was the last in and carefully closed the front door behind him. He wasn't sure what plan they were going to follow in order to alert the muggles to their presence, but he figured that they probably had many. After a quick check of each of the rooms on the ground floor, the next step was discussed.

"We should go upstairs," said Bellatrix, keeping her voice hushed as she gripped the wooden banister. "They obviously haven't heard us come in."

"Ok," agreed Rodolphus, glancing up the stairs. "But Rabastan and Barty should stay out on the landing until we know how many people we're dealing with."

"The master bedroom shouldn't be difficult to find," added Bellatrix. "They never are. You two check the other rooms to see if there's anyone in there." She pointed her finger towards Barty, and Rabastan who was leaning in the doorway to the front room.

"Barty can't perform a powerful enough charm to keep us undetected yet," said Rodolphus, stepping around Bellatrix so she could stand at the bottom of the stairs. "So Rab, you're going to have to do it."

"Sure," Rabastan replied, more of a grunt than a confirmation. Barty pressed himself against the stairs as Rabastan moved from the doorway to stand beside his brother. They were now in formation.

"Are we ready?" asked Bellatrix, and Barty knew from the velvet tone of her voice that she was grinning wickedly under her mask, eager to begin the slaughter. Nobody said anything in response, but as soon as she gave the signal they advanced up the stairs, snuffing out the sound of their footsteps as they climbed.

At the top of the narrow landing Barty waited, watching Bellatrix and Rodolphus open the furthest door along the left wall. He braced himself for the screams, when the muggles realized they were in there, and less than a second later, Barty turned to attention as the exact sound he was anticipating rang out.

He was ready. It was now that he needed to be alert. The sounds of the couple in the master bedroom being subdued and their shouts of protest, all of which was not being heard by the neighbours thanks to Rabastan, echoed through the house. Barty withdrew his wand, inching tentatively towards the door at the top of the landing, when the adjacent door shot open and a dazed man no older than he was tumbled out.

"Mum!" the man shouted, and before he could head towards the master bedroom, Barty hit him with a stunning spell and he crashed into the wall. The man crumpled to the floor, completely out cold.

The door at the opposite end of the hallway opened then, and another figure who Barty couldn't see shouted. It was another male voice, but Barty couldn't tell if they were older or younger than the unconscious man because he couldn't see around Rabastan. Barty then realized that there was nobody blocking this one's entry to the master bedroom. He prepared to advance, but Rabastan immediately sent a stunning spell at him. He flew over the banister and rolled down the last few stairs until he lay in a heap at the bottom. Someone screamed.

"Confundus," shouted Rabastan, ensuring that any neighbours that may have heard the scream no longer paid attention to it. He leaned back against the wall, giving Barty full access to the landing while he concentrated on keeping the neighbours oblivious.

The sounds of the couple being tortured and Bellatrix laughing maniacally filled the upstairs hallway. Barty was glad that he hadn't had to follow them into the bedroom, listening to what they were doing in there was uneasy enough.

It almost distracted him from the stirring downstairs, but Barty glanced over the banister just in time to see the young man at the bottom of the stairs beginning to crawl down the hallway. He immediately flew down the stairs, hitting him with a cruciatus curse before he could get as far as the entrance to the front room.

He stood watching the young man as he writhed on the floor, his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched in agony. It was a look Barty was familiar with, having made that face when bracing himself against his father's beatings. He tried to push the image away and focus on the muggle in front of him, strengthening his curse every time he felt his control slipping.

There was shouting upstairs, followed by several thuds which caught Barty's attention enough for the muggle to come back to his senses. Barty looked up in the direction of the chaos upstairs, pulling back when he felt the muggle grab at his legs. He kicked out, too startled to use his wand, before a flash of green light from the top of the stairs sent the muggle slumping to the floor dead.

"Get up here now," Bellatrix called down the stairs, the urgency obvious the harsh rasp of her words. Barty drew his eyes away from the corpse at his feet, forcing his body to move. He noticed that Bellatrix was no longer wearing her mask, and he focused on the shimmer of her pale skin in the darkness as he compelled himself forwards.

"We need you in the bedroom," said Bellatrix as she waited for Barty at the top of the stairs. "It's easier to take them one on one so we don't distract Rabastan." He nodded, following her past Rabastan and into the master bedroom.

"We've got a lively one," she said as Barty stepped into the room. He'd expected more blood. The woman, clearly the mother, was bound to the bed with rope that was looped around her neck and the bedposts, crying uncontrollably. An older man was on the floor but conscious, his face bloody and bruised, and on the far side of the room by the window, Rodolphus held the younger man who had burst out of the first room in a headlock.

"Who do you want me to cover?" asked Barty, unsure of whom he'd want to take most.

"Take the father," said Bellatrix, striding behind him as she moved closer to the bed. "Rod can release the imperius on him so you don't miss out on any of the fun."

Barty swallowed, moving over to the man on the floor. He tried not to look at his face, but was unable to stop himself. The man was portly, in both his body and face, with a short crop of dark brown hair. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head like he didn't know how he'd ended up on the floor, and before he could move Barty fired a cruciatus curse at him.

"Aww do you not want to watch poor little hubby squirm?" said Bellatrix, who Barty saw out of the corner of his eye holding the wife over the footboard of the bed with her wand at her throat. The false sweetness in her voice was so thick and derisive that it made a knot of discomfort form in Barty's chest. He wondered if anybody other than Rodolphus and Rabastan got used to how much she enjoyed this.

The woman wailed and sobbed as her husband screamed, the son now following from the floor. It was guttural and piercing, and made Barty think of all the times his mother screamed at his father to stop. He felt his hold slipping, his arm aching from holding his wand so rigidly. He was about to give up, switch to another curse, when his concentration was broken by a loud crack. The muggle at Barty's feet screamed, and he looked up to find the woman dangling over the footboard, her head lolling at an unnatural angle.

"She was starting to get on my nerves," said Rodolphus, his tone the vocal equivalent of a shrug. Bellatrix shoved her onto the floor, climbing off the bed and stepping over the corpse. The son tried to get up, and she sent him crashing back to the floor screaming in pain.

"I was looking for an excuse to drop her anyway," said Bellatrix, heavy with contempt. "I need to talk to Barty. You can handle these two on your own can't you darling."

"Of course," he replied, the subtle layer of amusement in his voice making Barty feel spare. Bellatrix took Barty's hand and led him into the nearest bedroom, sitting them both down on the bed.

"You're holding back in there," she said sternly, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at him. "Why?"

"How did you…" he stammered. He'd been trying to keep his hesitance locked down, not wanting to appear as weak as he felt, or like he didn't want this. He knew that he was struggling at times but tried to ignore it, to push it away like he had done with every other unpleasant thing in his life. He couldn't stand the thought of them thinking that he couldn't do this.

"Surely somebody must have told you what legilimency is boy," said Bellatrix.

"Yes." Barty nodded.

"So I'll ask again." Her voice got harsher, more forceful. "Why are you holding back?"

Barty felt panic grip his chest. He hadn't wanted them to discover the truth, least of all her. He'd learned how much she frowned on letting emotions control you. He knew how she felt about weakness, and Barty knew he was weak. The panic increased when he realized that if he didn't tell her, she would just slip inside his mind and find out anyway. He exhaled. "I keep picturing them as me."

"Then I know exactly how to help you," she said, a low softness replacing the harsh authoritative tone to her voice. Barty blinked in disbelief. He thought she'd scold him, pronounce him weak and unworthy. He was worried she'd feel as if he let them down.

"You're trying to stay detached," said Bellatrix, leaning closer to Barty and making sure that his eyes were fixed on hers."Trying not to let yourself be truly present because you associate yourself with being powerless." She grabbed his hand. "You're not powerless anymore Barty."

"Try picturing them as your father," she continued, something which until she mentioned it, Barty hadn't considered doing at all. He thought that by simply being here, he was hurting his father enough. "Think of the worst he's ever made you feel. Then take all of that anger, all of that hatred, and direct it at those filthy muggles in there."

"And you think that will work?" he asked, his mouth remaining slightly open afterwards. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it. It could be ingenious, if it worked.

"I know it will," said Bellatrix confidently. "In fact I question why you haven't done it before. I know that anger is in there Barty, why haven't you let it out?" Her question caused another ripple of panic to swim through him. He didn't know how to answer.

He knew that anger was there. It had been intrinsically woven into the fabric of his identity for longer than he could remember. It was always concealed, tucked away because there was no way he could ever express it, so he'd just become used to feeling angry and powerless. Those two feelings were bound together. Barty wasn't even sure who he was without them.

He'd always shuffled along in life, doing what he needed to in order to cope with what was happening around him. The anger he felt had been locked away in a box so tightly guarded, that Barty wasn't sure what else would break if he ever decided to open it.

"Because it's so strong," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "I might destruct from the force of it." Bellatrix smiled, leaning closer before brushing the side of his face with her hand.

"Then destruct," she whispered, persuasive and seductive. Barty closed his eyes, and imagined what would happen if he allowed himself to free that anger.

"Come on," said Bellatrix, rising off the bed. Barty followed, and she ushered him back into the master bedroom. They went over to the father, who hadn't moved.

"Picture him as your father," Bellatrix whispered in his ear, gripping his arms firmly as she stood behind him. "Think of all the ways he's hurt you, made you feel worthless." Barty closed his eyes, trying to conjure the emotion, and finding it working. "Think of what you want to do to him."

"Crucio."

"That's it," said Bellatrix as the man squirmed at their feet. Barty pictured the worst he'd ever been made to feel by his father, letting the burning rage simmer through his veins into the output of his wand.

"Think of how destroyed he's going to be when he finds out about this," continued Bellatrix, and Barty felt satisfaction mingle with the anger that pumped through his body. "How he'll have no idea who did it, and you'll be right there under his nose."

"Listen to his screams, picture them coming from your father's mouth." Barty couldn't tell if she was influencing him or not, but every word she said made perfect sense. It was like the pieces of a difficult puzzle finally fitting together. He could feel the sense of powerlessness drifting away. He was no longer what his father had done to him. He was his revenge.

"What do you want to do Barty?"

"I want to hurt him," he replied, anger shaping his voice into a snarl.

"Well don't tell me dear," said Bellatrix, false sweetness dripping from her words. "Tell him."

"Crucio."

"Good," she grinned as Barty channelled his fury into the muggle. "What else?"

"I want to kill him," said Barty, and for the first time in his life, when those words left his lips, he knew that he could. Those had always been spat out in pointless frustration, never able to mean anything. Now they could.

"Avada Kedavra," he said, watching the muggle fall limp with a satisfying thud.

"Now, wasn't that exhilarating?" whispered Bellatrix, her lips close enough to his ear that her breath sent shivers down his spine. His entire body was tingling, warm, flooded with adrenaline. She was right. He had the power now. He could feel it coursing through his veins like enough lightening to shock half the country.

"Yes," he said, panting as he licked the corner of his mouth. He'd finally done it, finally broken free from the shackles of his own self perception, free from how worthless his father had made him feel. The feeling that coursed through his veins now was like a drug, it made him feel invincible. He could be a new man now, not apprehensive, but confident in what he could do to others. And anybody wanting to cross him better be prepared.

" _Did he do that?" asked Regulus tentatively as his eyes fell on the cut that covered Barty's cheekbone. Barty nodded solemnly._

" _I can't believe he's still doing this," he continued, a level of anger in his voice that Barty had rarely seen before. "You're fifteen."_

" _I can," Barty replied, his voice flat. Regulus cupped his face and brushed his thumb over the cut. Barty winced._

" _Maybe I could ask my parents if you could come and stay with us during the summer," said Regulus, letting go of Barty and sitting down in the grass. "It's not like we don't have the room."_

" _You don't need to do that," said Barty, falling down beside him._

" _But it's not fair that he does this." The softness in Regulus's voice made Barty sure of the one question that had been playing on his mind through the last few months of fourth year. That he was starting to feel more for Regulus than just friendship. Ever since he found out Regulus could possibly be interested in him that way, the questioning hadn't ended._

" _I'm used to it," said Barty dismissively, but still smiling from Regulus's kindness._

" _I'm not sure I've ever wanted to hurt someone as much as I've wanted to hurt your father," said Regulus, spitting the words out with such uncharacteristic anger that it pulled at Barty's heart even more._

" _Most days I'm there I just want to kill him," Barty added, feeling the pointless anger flood through him as he thought about it. "But I know there's no use in being angry because there's nothing I can do. He's too powerful."_

" _At least you've got me for an escape," said Regulus, much needed warmth filling his words. He then shot up. "I have an idea."_

 _Barty followed Regulus as they walked to the most secluded area in the park. There wasn't anybody around as far as they could see. Regulus walked them over to an opening in some bushes and sat, encouraging Barty to join him._

" _Scream," he said. Barty blinked at him, shaking his head in confusion._

" _Scream the anger out," he clarified, nudging Barty gently in the side. He blinked once more before shrugging and deciding to go along with it. He screamed as loud as he could._

 _Regulus started screaming alongside him, both of them letting the air take their frustrations and swallow them up. Barty screamed until his face ached, until his throat was dry and he could feel his pulse in his temples. It may not have been much, but it was the only thing he had to get his anger out._


	9. Chapter 9

Things gradually became easier for Barty. As soon as Bellatrix had helped him conquer his apprehension on raids, he found them to be much less complicated. Her advice had worked, and now rather than picturing himself being tortured and killed, he pictured his father. It made the act much more enjoyable, and helped him expel some of the anger that usually hummed through his blood, simmering but never rising to the surface.

His growing comfort with the violence displayed on raids made it easier for him to accept many other things in his life. Dealing with his father at home became easier, he no longer felt prickles of fear up his spine whenever he knew his father was home, and his harsh judgemental words now meant nothing to Barty. He felt smug whenever he slipped off to his room, brimming with satisfaction over how oblivious his father was to everything.

He still spent a large amount of time at the Lestrange's, and had even felt himself becoming less and less fazed by the sometimes turbulent atmosphere. Rabastan had been right when he talked about getting used to things. Barty wasn't sure he would, but now he could feel it happening. As November began to approach December, Barty was more settled into life as a Death Eater than he thought he could be at the beginning. The teaching he'd received and the power he'd been given had knocked the self doubt out of him.

He was meeting weekly with the Dark Lord, one on one at the Riddle house. They mostly discussed the results of his spying from each week, and had so far managed to prevent one mass arrest, which Barty had been rewarded for. He had also begun Occlumency training, with both Bellatrix and the Dark Lord respectively. When the Dark Lord had found out, he suggested training with him too, as he had taught her everything she knows. Barty enjoyed being taught by both of them, and was improving steadily through the challenge.

Barty could also feel a strong bond growing between himself and the Dark Lord. After their discussions of the information Barty had garnered from eavesdropping on his father and rummaging through his home office, they talked personally. Barty knew that this was rare for the Dark Lord, that he was very private and rarely let his followers this close unless they were trusted greatly. This knowledge filled Barty with a sense of importance and validity. Exhilaration coursed through every cell in his body whenever he left the Riddle house after one of their talks.

Barty often wondered if Regulus would have been proud of him, for how much he'd accomplished and what a trusted member of the inner circle he'd become in such a short time. He knew that Regulus had always admired the Dark Lord's power and influence while they were growing up, almost in a longing way, as he never thought that he would be able to achieve that level of power, no matter how much his family may have wanted him to. Barty had often been too wrapped up in his own home life to follow the Dark Lord's movements as much as Regulus did, but now he completely understood Regulus's admiration.

 _Barty grabbed the bottom corner of the newspaper clipping that hung on the wall of Regulus's bedroom. It was a new addition to his wall of admiration. He read about the attack described, paying it little attention before letting it go._

" _Why do you follow him so closely?" asked Barty dropping down onto the spare bed in his room and folding his arms behind his head._

" _Don't you ever think what it would be like to have that much power?" said Regulus, sweeping his hair out of his eyes on the bed parallel to Barty, his bed._

" _Not really," said Barty dismissively, knowing it would be pointless._

" _It must be nice, to be completely in control like that," said Regulus, a yearning in his voice. "I'm not sure I'll ever feel that, but the thought of being near that kind of power is nice."_

" _I know I won't," said Barty, trying not to expel the depressing extent of his reality into his words. "Anyway, do you want a chocolate frog?"_

The presence that the Dark Lord held was magnetising, Barty could feel power move around him in the air whenever he was with him. It was hypnotic. Despite his startling appearance, Barty found himself growing more and more comfortable around the Dark Lord, cementing his loyalty every time they talked. They shared stories about their mutual hatred of their fathers', making Barty fantasise about one day killing his own father, the way the Dark Lord had done. He'd often imagined it, but never thought he'd be able to do it, as his father was too powerful a beast. But Barty was the beast now, and he knew without a shadow of doubt what he was capable of.

The loyalty he felt was fierce, and strengthening day by day. It was becoming fused to his soul, the cause often being all he could think about. Joining the Death Eaters had been the best decision he'd ever made, he felt reborn, truly seen by all around him for the first time in his life. The only person who felt anywhere close to the same level of loyalty was Bellatrix, and the Dark Lord had become a frequent topic of conversation between the two of them.

"So what else did he tell you?" asked Bellatrix as they chatted in the green lounge, leaning closer to him like he was about to whisper a secret into her ear.

"He was telling me about how he's going to use the information I've given him to match up with the growing list of potential Order members," said Barty, nodding as he talked, noticing the way her eyes widened and her smile grew at his words. The look of excitement on her face was similar to that of a child right after their parents had presented them with sweets.

"That's great," she said. "We're so lucky we've got you to spy so closely."

"Thanks," Barty responded, pride welling in his chest. "He's made sure I know how valued my input is."

"He can be very rewarding for hard work and faithfulness," said Bellatrix, her voice dipping into the low velvety tone it often held. "Did you get any names from your father? I know not all Order members are aurors under your father's instruction, but there's a good chance many are."

"I um," Barty stammered. He knew that conversations with the Dark Lord surrounding missions were to only be shared between individuals involved, and he didn't want to betray the Dark Lord's trust, even if it was only Bellatrix.

"Did you not think that information might be classified," said Rodolphus from the armchair beside the fireplace, the somewhat forceful tone of his voice taking Barty by surprise. Until now, he'd been silently reading the Daily Prophet. "And he might not be able to tell us."

Bellatrix's expression soured instantly. Her smile morphed into a thin line, and her head rotated towards him with owl like speed. From next to her, Barty saw her chest heave slightly as she held in a breath, gently biting her bottom lip as she looked over at Rodolphus.

"I'm sure if we're entitled to know then we'll find out soon enough," he continued, a thin veil of smugness lingering in his words. His comment had clearly annoyed Bellatrix.

"Anyway," she said loudly and high pitched, before turning back towards Barty. "What else did the two of you discuss dear?"

"He was telling me about his time in Albania," said Barty, feeling the tension that hadn't quite simmered away.

"Oh," said Bellatrix in response. "I remember those stories." She stopped, biting the corner of her bottom lip as the beginnings of a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Do you?" she said slowly, her words laced with familiar false sweetness as she glanced over to the armchair.

"Of course," answered Rodolphus, sounding bored and not even glancing up from the paper to notice Bellatrix watching him.

"What else did he say?" she continued when she got no reaction, the poison honey of her mocking tone returning to genuine enthusiasm.

"The amount you ask about my meetings with the Dark Lord you may as well come along to save you the trouble," said Barty, chuckling lightly as the words left his mouth. Bellatrix laughed too, a low, uncharacteristically girlish giggle that Barty could only assume was slightly exaggerated for the purpose of furthering whatever passive aggressive game he'd found himself unwittingly in the middle of.

"Are you okay dear?" drawled Bellatrix once the laughter had stopped, the venom in her feigned concern obvious. "You look like you want to say something." Barty looked over, noticing that Rodolphus had draped the newspaper over the arm of the chair.

"I was just going to excuse myself and get a drink," he said calmly, but Barty noticed the stern undertones. "If that's alright with you." Bellatrix smirked to herself as she watched him get out of the chair, leading Barty to wonder why she'd wanted her laughter to irritate him so much, and why it had worked.

It hit him then, the realization like a cold stone dropping into his stomach. He'd heard whispers before he began his training, from the other Death Eaters. Many of them speculated that she was closer to the Dark Lord than any of them knew. That rumour had been pushed out of Barty's mind while he'd trained, never noticing anything that could indicate its potential truth, until now.

"Would you bring me one back?" asked Bellatrix just as Rodolphus was about to reach the door. Her voice was equally as seductive as it was mocking, clear enjoyment radiating from her.

"I thought you were perfectly capable of getting your own and didn't need me getting them for you," he said, sounding almost as smug as she had as he threw her own words back at her with a smile on his face.

"Well I thought I might be nice and ask you to get it for me this time," she said in response, dropping some of the falseness from her voice, but keeping it slow and honeyed. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

"Of course not," replied Rodolphus, sounding less self satisfied as he left the room.

"Anyway," said Bellatrix positively, like the last two minutes hadn't happened at all. "I was with the Dark Lord only yesterday discussing methods for attempting to attain the prophecy. Has he shared his thoughts with you on that?"

"No," said Barty, unable to stop thinking about the rumour. If she'd been alone with him yesterday, then that could explain the tension today. He tried to get the thought of out of his head, but didn't think he could.

"Actually will you excuse me?" he said abruptly, moving to get off the couch. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Oh," said Bellatrix, her eyes widening slightly. "Of course, go ahead."

Barty left the room, heading across the corridor and into the bathroom. He couldn't shake the questions that were swimming around in his head, as he washed his hands, he pictured pulling each of them from his brain and watching them swirl down the sink. Was it true? If it was, did Rodolphus know about it? Did he care? It was clearly a source of tension regardless of whether it was true or not. Barty noticed another feeling underneath the initial discomfort, almost like jealousy. He felt like his own personal bond with the Dark Lord was almost threatened, like he was becoming possessive of the Dark Lord.

He shook his head, drying his hands and leaving the bathroom. He didn't want to walk back in the lounge until he'd pushed all thoughts of the rumours from his mind, so he wandered down the corridor and out into the foyer, where he bumped into Rodolphus.

"Hey," said Barty meekly, glancing down at the two glasses of red wine in his hands.

"Sorry about that," he said, almost embarrassed. "We probably should have given you some form of warning that things were a little tense today."

"No need mate," said Barty, waving his hand dismissively. Rodolphus laughed harshly.

"You've spent far too much time here," he said, causing Barty to laugh too.

"It's better than at home," said Barty, sighing slightly and hiding it behind fading laughter. Rodolphus looked at the ground, shaking his head slightly before straightening up again.

"You fancy sitting in there and having a drink?" he asked Barty, glancing towards the wall of the blue lounge. Barty blinked.

"Don't you need to give that to Bellatrix?" he asked, pointing to one of the glasses. Rodolphus laughed again.

"I'm in no rush," he said, smiling in a way that made Barty temporarily uncomfortable. A part of him feared for the man's safety. "And she probably didn't even want it."

This eased Barty's conscience somewhat, and he agreed. They went into the lounge and sat down, Rodolphus taking the armchair and Barty taking the big couch so they were facing each other. Rodolphus put one of the wine glasses down and duplicated the one in his hand, offering it to Barty.

"So how are you really?" asked Rodolphus after sipping from his glass. "I know it can be quite difficult to be completely honest with her breathing down your neck."

"I'm honestly doing fine," answered Barty, nodding so vigorously that a drop of wine came up over the edge of his glass. He caught it with his legs and promptly put the glass on the table. "I've really found my feet."

"Good," said Rodolphus. Barty smiled. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to be quite so insistent with his positivity, and he wondered whether it was overcompensation for what had happened in the other room and his subsequent thoughts about that rumour. As much as he'd tried not to, Barty often found himself taking Rodolphus's side in the arguments he'd witnessed. He'd tried to stay out of it altogether, but Bellatrix always seemed to overreact and pick fights where they weren't necessary. While she was an exceptionally good teacher, Barty had seen that she could be very difficult to live with. Everyone else in her life seemed to tiptoe around her.

"How's your Occlumency training going?"

"Great," said Barty, trying to tone down his animation. "I really feel like I'm getting the hang of it." He blinked as a concerning thought popped into his head. "Speaking of Occlumency, wont she know we're in here?"

"Only if you give it away," said Rodolphus, taking another sip from his glass. Barty felt his mouth fall open slightly as he realized what Rodolphus meant.

"You?" he stammered, amazed that he'd managed to keep the fact that he was a better Occlumens than Bellatrix quiet.

"Surprised?" he said with a grin, lowering his glass away from his face.

"I guess," said Barty, although it made sense the more he thought about it. He'd been to their house enough times to see Bellatrix being difficult, and there were many times where Rodolphus just let her get on with it. Barty had always thought that he couldn't be that unbothered by her. Turns out he was just good at hiding it.

"Its better not to brag about what you can do," said Rodolphus, putting his glass down on the coffee table. "You have less up your sleeve if everyone already knows."

"I'll remember that," said Barty, still smiling from the surprise. He realized that he could learn a lot more from Rodolphus than he initially thought.

"Sometimes natural skill doesn't do you any favours," Rodolphus continued.

"What do you mean?"

"It's better to learn things the hard way rather than have them handed to you," he explained. "That makes you overconfident, and if that confidence goes to your head." Barty tried not to laugh as he glanced towards the other lounge where Bellatrix was. "You reveal everything through ego, and people can see right through you."

"Good to know," said Barty, making a note to remember the advice. He'd been taught so much by Bellatrix that mirroring her patterns of abrupt exertions of force came naturally to him. It was good for him to note flaws in that method early on.

"When I was your age," said Rodolphus, smiling slightly as he spoke. "I was an arrogant little shit who'd never had to try in their life." Barty let out a snort of laughter. Rodolphus pointed at him. "Don't get cocky, you'll end up complacent, and it will trip you up."

"It's a good thing I was never naturally skilled then," said Barty, his cheeks aching slightly. The pleasant atmosphere was broken when the door creaked open and Bellatrix walked in. Barty tried to squash the guilt that spread hotly across his chest and face.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, suspicion and displeasure heavy in her voice.

"Barty wanted to discuss something personal with me," Rodolphus said to her, his voice calm and steady and a little smug, but Barty suspected that only he could detect it. "Didn't you?"

"Yes," he agreed, remembering his Occlumency training and picturing his mind as a blank room as he spoke to her.

"Oh," she said, turning her nose up slightly before changing the subject. "Where's my drink?"

"On the table," answered Rodolphus, motioning to the table. "Right in front of us." Barty bit his lip against the heavy patronisation, trying to force away awkward laughter.

"I was beginning to think you'd fallen down the cellar stairs or something," said Bellatrix as she strode over to the table and picked up the full glass.

"Well obviously I haven't," replied Rodolphus, a sarcastic 'unfortunately' silently lingering between the words.

"Well are you done?" asked Bellatrix abruptly, taking a large sip from her wine glass before screwing her face up.

"Not quite," said Barty confidently, pleased with the lack of fear in his chest.

"We'll be back in soon," added Rodolphus. Bellatrix sighed and left the room.

"I think I kept her out well," said Barty as soon as the door closed and she was far enough away that she couldn't hear through the wall, adrenaline flowing through him.

"I don't think she was even looking at you," said Rodolphus, clearly amused by Barty's excitement. "She doesn't think you'd lie to her." The pride flowing through Barty's system increased.

"But if she does get inside your head," Rodolphus continued, distracting Barty from his internal celebration. His tone had become slightly warning. "Make sure she doesn't find out about this conversation."

"I will," he said eagerly, licking the corner of his mouth.

"There's not much I can do better than her, and it's better for everyone if she thinks the extensive list of those things is playing quidditch and mediating." Barty nodded in agreement to keep their conversation quiet, feeling lucky that he now had a third Occlumency teacher.

The next time Barty felt his mark burn, he prepared to meet the Dark Lord fuelled with confidence. He made his way up to the Riddle house, finding thoughts of rumours circling his head again. He tried his best to push them away, not wanting those questions in his head while he was around the Dark Lord. While it may be easy to be a better Occlumens than Bellatrix and keep it quiet, she wasn't the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was the most impressively powerful wizard Barty had ever met, there was surely nobody better than him.

"Good evening Bartemius," came the Dark Lord's cold drawl as Barty approached the lounge where they held their meetings.

"Good evening my lord," said Barty as he entered the room, bowing before taking his usual seat.

"You're in a good mood this evening," said the Dark Lord, no emotion in his voice.

"I'm just happy to be getting better and better at being a Death Eater," replied Barty shucking off his overcoat and letting it pool behind his back in the armchair.

"That's good to hear," the Dark Lord said, not sharing Barty's enthusiasm, but appreciative of it. "And I know that's the truth." Barty realized that this must have meant the Dark Lord had been inside his head, but the lack of awareness didn't concern him as much as it had the first time with Bellatrix.

"I'll admit Bartemius," The Dark Lord continued, drumming his bony fingers slowly against the arm of the chair, like he was playing a piano. "I was eager for your loyalty from the moment we first met, as I saw great potential in you." Pride exploded through Barty's system. "But I had my doubts after discovering your former lover. I'm glad you've proved me wrong."

"Regulus concerned you?" asked Barty tentatively, hoping he wasn't speaking out of turn.

"I sensed him wavering," he replied, before insisting that they change the subject.

It all made sense now. Memories crashed into the forefront of Barty's mind like a tidal wave. Of course he was having doubts, that's was why he'd become so jumpy and distant after taking the mark. That's why he'd been so secretive, why he hadn't been bragging to everyone who would listen about joining.

All through Barty's training, he'd wondered how Regulus had managed to go through it, seeming too soft for the brutality that Barty had engaged in. Now he understood that his suspicions weren't wrong. Even Bellatrix had said she'd worried about him while he was training, but if she'd known his loyalty was being questioned, would she not regard him with as much distain as she did the others who she didn't trust. That would mean that she didn't know. Did only the Dark Lord know? How much did he know? And if he knew, was there any chance that Regulus was still alive?

" _Why do you want to hide it so much?" Barty asked Regulus as left the Slytherin common room and headed to class._

" _Because," said Regulus, his voice almost stern in its defensiveness. "The teacher's are cracking down on any talks on potential members. They could punish me."_

" _But the others in there are shouting their mouths off about wanting to join," said Barty, sounding almost as defensive as Regulus. "And nobody is doing anything to them."_

" _Yet," Regulus replied, huffing out a breath."Maybe I just don't want to draw attention to myself, like always. What makes you think that's changed?"_

" _Nothing," Barty said meekly, taken aback by the escalating anger in Regulus's tone. He just wanted Regulus to be proud of himself. He'd pleased his family, something which Barty would never be able to do. The pressure on him was gone, and Barty wanted to make sure he knew not to take that feeling for granted._


	10. Chapter 10

After the revelation that came from Barty's last meeting with the Dark Lord, questions floated in his head for days. He wondered just how vocal Regulus had been with his doubts, had he voiced them to anybody or kept them bottled up the same way he kept his involvement hidden from everyone at school when he'd first joined the Death Eaters. He wondered what had triggered his change of heart. While extreme violence had never been something Regulus was comfortable with, he'd still admired the Dark Lord and believed in the cause. Did that change? There were plenty of other roles within the ranks that Regulus could have taken if the raids and duelling weren't something he was comfortable with.

Had he felt pressured to live up to Bellatrix's image, since they'd come from the same family? Had he witnessed her skill and ferocity and felt the need to mirror it all in the name of shared blood. They weren't the same, anybody who got to know either of them would be able to see the difference. Had Bellatrix herself put pressure on him, welcomed him into her small circle of Death Eaters, who mostly earned their way in through being family. They were high up in the hierarchy of Death Eaters, brutal and loyal. Had Regulus felt the need to try and be someone he wasn't due to the welcome they gave him?

There were so many questions, which Barty knew were most likely going to remain unanswered. He knew there was a slim chance of Regulus still being alive if the Dark Lord knew of his dissent. There was a possibility he'd run away and managed to remain undetected, if he was smart enough, but Barty doubted it, despite the part of him that wanted to cling hopefully to the chance.

He'd avoided everyone since he'd found out, wanting to keep them out of his head and allow him time to process. He felt hurt by the news Regulus had doubts. The Dark Lord was everything Barty never knew he needed, filled the hollow parts of himself that he thought he and Regulus had shared. He wanted to hope that Regulus was still out there, but couldn't imagine a way for him to fit back in his life if he had doubts, as being a Death Eater was fantastic for Barty. He felt confused and conflicted, desperate to figure out which side to take.

After a few days the questions were beginning to agitate him, and spying on his father was no longer distracting enough. He needed to get out of the house, to push all thoughts of Regulus from his mind, so he wasn't sure exactly why he decided to go to Lestrange manor, but it was the first place he wanted to be.

The house elf let him in, and he stepped into the foyer, looking and listening for signs of someone being home. Nobody appeared for a few minutes, so Barty sat down at the bottom of the stairs. Eventually he heard movement from upstairs, turning around to see Bellatrix making her way down. He immediately stood up.

"Morning," he said cheerfully.

"I hope you're not expecting much," she said as she reached the small landing where the L shaped staircase twisted. Barty took two steps backwards. "It's just me this morning, and I've got to go out in a bit."

"Oh, okay," Barty replied, sounding somewhat disappointed. As much as he admired Bellatrix's magical talent and leadership skills, she was the person that he enjoyed spending time alone with the least. As much as he didn't want to be, Barty was afraid of her, and he knew that he was only in her good graces so long as he didn't challenge her perceived position as second in command and most loyal Death Eater. Additionally, the fact that Rodolphus and Rabastan were out, most likely on official business, meant that she was not going to be in the best of moods.

"Do you want a cup of tea or something?" she asked, her tone flat and her courtesy sounding forced. Barty nodded, following her into the dining room where she shouted at the elf to get them a tray of tea.

She led him into the green lounge, which was their usual spot for socialising when Barty was over during the day. They both sat down on the big couch opposite the fireplace, the house elf brining their tea shortly after.

"So where are you off to later?" asked Barty, taking a sip of his too hot tea, flinching as it burned his tongue, and as he realized that Bellatrix may have considered that question too invasive. "If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm going over to my aunt's," she answered, blowing the rising steam off the top of her teacup. "It's the one year anniversary since my uncle died."

"Oh yeah," said Barty, suddenly remembering reading that Orion had passed not long after Regulus had gone missing. "I remember hearing about that in the Daily Prophet."

"We're all going over there to see how she is," said Bellatrix, sounding bored, like visiting her grieving aunt was a chore she'd rather not need to do. If they'd had this conversation within a few weeks of knowing each other, Barty would have found her tone strange and uncomfortable. He knew that she valued her family, and held family loyalty in very high esteem, but she sounded so unconcerned. However, he knew her well enough now that he had no delusions that she was the same as most people. She held a callous coldness that Barty had only seen rivalled in his father and the Dark Lord.

"I guess you could come with me if you like," she offered after a few minutes silence. "It's not like you're a stranger to my family."

"It's been a while since I've seen your aunt," said Barty, sighing slightly as he took a mouthful of tea. "I meant to go and see her after." He stopped. He couldn't bring himself to mention Regulus, not with all the information that was floating around in his head. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"She wouldn't have been accepting of what you were to him, so it was probably best that you didn't," said Bellatrix, frowning at her cup. There was a subtle hint of anger in her voice, that Barty probably would have missed had he not known her long, or misattributed to one of her moods. But he remembered that her family had forced her onto a path she never wanted, despite making the best of the situation. Regulus never even got the chance to do that.

"You know, hearing him talk about you almost made me think twice about things I didn't believe existed," said Bellatrix, flashing Barty what could almost be described as a look of warmth. Barty smiled as he realized what she meant.

"Thanks," he said feebly, feeling heat flush to his cheeks and tightness in his chest. He thought about asking her 'why almost?', but knew that she probably thought Regulus was young and naive. He wondered if meeting him had made a difference.

"He's probably better off, not being forced into a life he didn't want," she said, making Barty immediately question whether she knew if he was dead, despite her previously stating that she had no idea. Barty pushed down the anxious energy that had burst to life at her words, the desperate need to question. He also realized she was right, in a blunt and morbid way. If he was dead, he could never be forced into marriage and parenthood, a life chosen for him rather than by him.

"Let's hope we win the war before it happens to you, hey," Bellatrix continued, letting out a harsh laugh. Barty parroted out a similar laugh, yet again feeling the cold reality of the truth to her words sinking in his stomach. He couldn't imagine a life other than the one he was living now, being forced to live with a stranger and play normal in public, even have children. The thought made his insides twist.

After they finished their tea, Barty and Bellatrix flooed over to 12 Grimmauld Place. The house was busy, Barty could tell from the hum of voices from other rooms. He followed Bellatrix out of the empty lounge they were in towards the tune of the voices. He remembered the first time he stepped foot in number 12 Grimmauld place, how the atmosphere had engulfed him completely.

 _Barty rubbed his sweaty palms against the inside of his robe pockets as he watched the house unfold in front of him. Regulus ushered him after number 12 Grimmauld place exposed itself, directing him towards the stairs._

 _Barty was immediately consumed with the aesthetic of the house, dark and powerful in a way that fully lived up to the name of the family which resided in it. It smelled musty and homely, not like the overly clinical scent of home. Barty tried to swallow his nerves as Regulus introduced him to his mother and father._

 _Barty always felt self conscious when he met new people, especially adults. He wondered if they could sense the damage his father inflicted._

" _Nice to meet you," he said politely to Orion and Walburga Black, rigidly shaking their hands in a routine that was so ingrained in him that he could almost pretend it felt natural._

 _He tried to work through his shyness as Regulus's parents relayed all of the things he'd told them about him. He felt so out of place, like the power and history oozing from the walls of the house would engulf him, that the people living there would notice his otherness. The only thing that made him relax was the smile on Regulus's face as he watched Barty getting on with his parents._

The main lounge was full of people. Barty looked around nervously as he tried to identify somebody he recognised. He eventually found Narcissa, sat on the end of the big couch with Draco sat on her lap, an older female relative leaning towards him and tickling him with what looked like a quill.

Rather than get lost in the swarm of people, Barty trotted to Bellatrix's side, hovering while she greeted her mother and aunt, who were sat on the opposite side of the room to Narcissa. She introduced him to her mother Druella, and Barty could tell immediately that Bellatrix got most of her physical features from her father.

Druella had waves of shimmering blonde hair framing her face, and her face seemed soft and kind. He could tell that Narcissa shared many of her mother's genes, where Bellatrix had most of the signature Black family traits.

Barty stood at the side of the room while Bellatrix made small talk with her family, silently wishing that he hadn't come. He was the only man in the room, aside from the one nearly asleep in the armchair and Draco, but he didn't count. He also felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of people he didn't know, completely out of place.

Eventually Barty left, after offering brief condolences to Walburga Black. His immediate instinct was to head for Regulus's bedroom, shutting himself away from the discomfort and surrounding himself with memories of the past. He went upstairs, knowing that Bellatrix would probably realize he was in there, but as he was about to open the bedroom door a croaking sound from behind startled him.

"Look who it is," the voice said, causing Barty to spin round. He couldn't see anyone. "Barty Crouch, friend of master Regulus."

"Kreacher," said Barty, finally identifying the source of the noise. The Black house elf was hunched in the corner, a feather duster dangling from one hand.

"You're one of them now," Kreacher continued, plodding towards Barty. "You're serving the Dark Lord."

"I am, yes," said Barty quietly despite there being nobody around and surrounded by supporters.

"Master Regulus wanted more for you," said Kreacher, causing a cold wave to roll over Barty's skin. "The serpent man was not kind to Kreacher." Barty blinked in confusion, surprised to learn that Kreacher had met the Dark Lord personally. That implied that Regulus was trusted enough that he came to his home, even though he had doubts. It was obvious that there was a lot of information Barty didn't know.

"Well I finally feel I've found my place in the world," he told Kreacher, uncomfortable with how defensive a house elf had managed to make him feel. "And you're a house elf, aren't you used to being treated badly?"

"Master Regulus would be turning in his grave," muttered Kreacher, who was beginning to skulk towards the stairs. "If he had a grave."

"So he'd dead?" asked Barty, desperation raising the pitch of his voice as he followed Kreacher. "You know that he's dead."

"I promised master Regulus that I would keep his secrets," said Kreacher finally, before disappearing from halfway down the stairs, leaving Barty staring at an empty space.

Barty felt dizzy. His chest tightened and his breath disappeared in his throat as he shoved his way into Regulus's room. The emptiness of it was jarring, like he'd been hit in the chest with a stunning spell. Barty staggered over to Regulus's bed, collapsing onto his stomach, pillows swallowing his face. He breathed in, hoping to find a trace of Regulus's scent and ending up with nothing.

Regulus was dead. It was clear he was dead, and there were secrets surrounding his death that Kreacher was willing to take to the grave. Barty shut everything out, squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his fists as the pain tore through him. He'd known that there had been a chance he was dead as soon as he'd gone missing, but he'd always held out hope. Now he was mourning the loss of that hope, letting in the knowledge that the worst case scenario was reality.

He didn't cry, but felt consumed with anger. He was angry that he spent their last months together so frustrated with him, angry that Regulus had deserted him, tried to silently defy the Dark Lord knowing fully what consequences that brought. All of the conflicting emotions from earlier had doubled and were tearing him to shreds. He should hate Regulus for deserting the cause he promised his life to, the one that had saved his life, but he couldn't bring himself to, and it made him feel dirty and disloyal. He wanted to go back and do things differently, but knew that he couldn't.

He straightened up when Bellatrix came and found him, pushing as much of his emotions to the back of his mind as he could, and thinking excuses ready for what she could sense. He didn't want to leave Regulus's room, but also didn't want to alert anyone to the secrets that were being kept under their noses. It was clear that his family didn't know, and he felt the need to protect Regulus's secret from Bellatrix especially, even though he was no longer around for it to matter.

By the time they went back to Lestrange manor, Rodolphus and Rabastan were back. Barty zoned out as they talked to Bellatrix, offering a feeble 'hello' before hovering to the side and not joining in with them. He barely listened to what they were saying about an upcoming meeting, unable to find the energy to care. He knew he had to leave, the guilt of his disinterest and secrecy starting to eat at him.

Memories replayed in his mind when he arrived back home and locked himself in his bedroom. All of their best moments and their worst on loop. His last memory of seeing Regulus alive eventually made its way to the front of the show, and the tears started to roll down Barty's cheek as he realized what an obvious goodbye it had been. He'd known. Regulus had known that whatever he had planned was going to get him killed.

 _The announcement from Winky that someone was at the door had immediately put Barty on edge. They never had unexpected visitors, and he was home alone, starting to convince himself that the visitor had been sent by his father to spy on him. He approached the landing tentatively, his mouth falling open when he glanced down the stairs and saw Regulus standing there._

" _What are you doing here?" he called down the stairs._

" _I can't stop," said Regulus, almost regretfully. They'd barely spoken since their fight in Hyde Park a week ago. "But I really needed to see you." Barty made his way downstairs, pushing his anger aside._

 _They went into the main lounge, and Barty grew concerned by the fact that Regulus wouldn't sit down. He seemed unsteady, on edge. But there wasn't much time where he didn't nowadays._

" _I want to apologise for the other week," said Regulus, wringing his hands in front of him as he spoke. "I'm sorry for how I behaved and couldn't bear the thought of leaving things like that between us."_

" _What do you mean leaving?" asked Barty, beginning to panic._

" _I have to go away for a while," explained Regulus, his voice breaking slightly as he did. "I can't tell you where or for how long."_

" _Is it?"_

 _Regulus nodded, before taking a deep breath. "I just needed you to know how much I care for you. How important you are to me."_

" _I know that Reg," Barty said, feeling a lump form in his throat. All he'd wanted was open acknowledgement from Regulus that they mattered._

" _I'm glad," said Regulus, blinking and swallowing after the words left his mouth. Before Barty had time to ruminate on why he seemed so out of sorts, Regulus moved across the room and kissed him._

 _He kissed him with passion that he'd rarely shown in the entire length of their relationship, pulling him into a tight embrace as he crushed their lips together. Barty's head spun, but he relaxed into the kiss, no longer questioning its urgency. After they let go, Regulus cleared his throat and headed for the door back to the foyer._

" _Bye," he said to Barty as he stepped backwards to the front door, never letting his eyes leave Barty who was lingering in the doorway. "Look after yourself."_

" _I will," said Barty before Regulus slipped out of the front door. For the first time in a week, hope replaced the anger that had settled within him._

It took days for Barty to process the grief, the guilt and confusion that came with it. After he'd accepted what he'd suspected all along, but desperately hoped wasn't true, he made his way to Hyde Park. He arrived at their spot, laying a single flower down amongst the bushes. There were most likely only three people who knew some of the truth about what happened to Regulus, and only one who knew the whole truth. He'd decided that he was going to keep his secret, feeling like it was the last decent thing he could do for him.

"Hey Reg," he said to the sky, laughing harshly at himself over how ridiculous it felt. "I'm going to keep your secret. And I forgive you for leaving. I don't understand why, or how your experience was, as I didn't see it, but mine has been pretty great. I finally belong somewhere now, and I know that I belonged with you, but this is different. So what I'm trying to say is, if I can forgive you for leaving, I hope you can forgive me for staying."


End file.
